New Horizons
by kryptoniansky
Summary: Emma was having dreams about strange lands and people. It sets her on a changed path involving a reunion with her 7yr son and a fateful meeting with the captain of the Jolly Roger pirate ship. New realms and adventures lie ahead for Emma, Henry, and Hook – 3 years before Emma finds Storybrooke. Along the way, she finds the truth – and perhaps true love as well. AU pre-series.
1. Enchanted

**Author's Notes:** _This is my first-ever Once Upon A Time fanfic!_ While Emma, Hook, and Henry are the main characters of this story note that others will appear as well - eventually leading to the town of Storybrooke too. I also invent a few realms for my story, so some places and characters may or may not have stemmed from actual fairy-tales or be familiar to you. The Captain Swan romantic pairing is the main one throughout this fic, though Outlaw Queen, Rumbelle, and Snowing will also be shown in due time. I have a video made for this story, but am having complications with my sound so it unfortunately will not be uploaded at the same time as this chapter. I'm working on it. Anyway, enough from me - enjoy!

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**~ Enchanted ~**

The lonely cries of an infant had haunted her for years.

Emma was almost glad when she went to sleep one night, nearly a year ago, to find her dreams filled with something else entirely. At first, she'd brush them off in relief to no longer having her own mind mock her for past mistakes involving a child she couldn't keep. Then, the new dreams increased, and the strange things she saw refused to fade from her mind the next morning.

In a matter of months, Emma was ready to swear off sleeping completely.

Sword-fighting princes, enchanted forests, fire-breathing dragons, huge castles, and magical spells – none of it made sense. The places and sights soon included faces of people she'd never met - yet the strangest part of all was the lack of sound. Emma never heard a whispered name, the collisions of opposing forces, or roar of a hungry beast. The images she could see weren't always clear, either; the more she had the dreams, the blurrier they became.

Emma held onto the hope that with time they'd merely fade away altogether.

She reluctantly endured the confusing fairytale dreams, until one night almost exactly a year since they'd begun – Emma woke in a cold sweat, as the clock struck midnight. Her apartment chimed loudly with the sounds of a grandfather clock she didn't have - while her small bedroom flooded with beams of moonlight, which was supposed to be trapped behind dark curtains adoring her windows, and the rain clouds filling the night sky outside.

Sitting up in her bed, Emma gasped for air, as a flush of warmth and fear jolted through her entire form. Emma swung her legs over the side of the bed, and touched her feet to the floor. The moment her toes contacted with the wooden flooring, the clock chimes stopped and the moonlight vanished. The apartment was as it had always been while she'd lived there - dark and hollow.

Panicked, Emma rushed to her window and roughly threw open the curtains. The outside scenery was further darkened by the hidden moon and downpour of rain. The lights in the street flickered rapidly, then remained on in perfect synchronisation with each other. She could only stare, barefoot and shivering, in confusion towards what was going on. With her dreams, and now the sounds and lights she shouldn't be experiencing, Emma wondered if she was finally going insane. Was this outlandish payback for not being able to provide for her baby, and thus giving him away the moment he was born? Or was it for the stealing and lying she'd done for years prior to her stay in jail?

Was it for her sheer existence in itself?

Exhaling, while raking a hand through her blonde hair, Emma slowly made her way back to bed. She lay down underneath the covers and closed her eyes. Emma reminded herself she'd had quite a bit to drink earlier, Emma soon willed herself back to sleep with the assumption that she simply wasn't thinking clearly. However, unnoticed by its recipient, a brass compass now sat on her bedside table to shine in the tiny amount of light able to naturally enter the bedroom.

The arrow spun aimlessly, then halted to point in the direction of Emma - the moment every clock in her apartment ticked one minute after midnight.

~ NH ~

Emma didn't have time to notice the compass the following mid-morning, when she was pulled from her fretful sleep by a knock at her apartment door. With a groan of protest, Emma emerged from underneath her sheets and glared in the general direction of the door. The knocking continued, giving her little choice other than to rise from her bed and drag her feet across the apartment, with the intention to confront whoever was at her door during her day off from work.

'What?' She complained, unlatching the locks to yank the door open.

It seemed to be a prank, as her tired and grumpy eyes scanned the empty space in front of her, until Emma lowered her gaze to the little boy standing before her. Relief shone in his smiling features, as he tilted his head slightly to look upwards at her.

'Mummy?' The boy spoke, with wide eyes aimed in her direction.

'I think you got the wrong person, Kid.' Emma swallowed stubbornly.

She felt a swarm of emotions flood her, along with the distant sound of a crying infant from the depths of her memories. The sniffles of the present brought her from her past, and Emma looked over to see the boy was crying. His small form shook, and Emma winced with uncertain discomfort. Unable to stand his distress, she invited the boy inside and warily closed the door behind him.

She had to figure out who he was so she could make him go away.

'Who are you?' Emma asked.

The child stood in front of her, still watching Emma with his sad eyes, and regained himself enough to respond to her questions. Emma tried to ignore it, but there was something forming within his eyes that was eerily familiar – the look of someone who was lost and alone in a world they didn't understand yet.

'My name is Henry.' He told her. 'I know you're my Mummy. Please, I'm scared!'

The boy moved quickly forward, as if to launch himself at her, and Emma instinctively stepped backwards in wariness of being clung to. Henry didn't hug her, but positioned himself right in front her her – somehow, it made it much harder for her to look away from his pleading eyes. Emma glanced the child over, noting his knee-torn jeans, black sweater, then brown hair, and dark green eyes. He looked about seven, which Emma nervously knew would be the same age as the son she'd given away that many years ago.

'Did you mean to leave me behind?' Henry asked, staring up at her still.

His gaze penetrated hers, giving the impression he could read her mind if he tried hard enough. His sadness remained, but curiosity began to swell, once the boy realised she wasn't about to make him leave.

'What?' Emma struggled to work out what she was supposed to say, while her mind became an intelligible jumble of panic.

Her job required her to handle a lot of inter-changing situations, but this one child was unravelling all her confidence and coherent thoughts. It was unsettling, yet Emma wasn't sure how she was supposed to react to the situation.

'You gave me away when I was a baby.' Henry pointed out, solidifying further proof that perhaps he really did know who he was talking to – his birth mother.

'I...' Emma stuttered. 'Where are your parents?' She asked instead of providing him the answers he surely sought.

He was adopted, therefore Emma tried to reason that he must belong to someone – just not her.

Henry's curiosity was clouded by his frown, as the boy looked downwards at the floor to consider her question. He blinked and quickly returned his eyes to meet hers, though with a considerable height disadvantage, and shrugged.

'I...I don't remember.' Henry said.

He'd stated it as an uncertain fact, yet she could tell his mind was flushing with renewed worries the boy hadn't considered moments earlier when he'd knocked on her door.

Emma was about to call him out on his lie, when she saw the honestly riddled in his young gaze. The boy had showed up at her doorstep early that morning to say he was her son, and yet appeared to have no clear recollection of where his parents were. It didn't make sense, except Emma always knew when a person was lying – and the boy was telling her what he perceived to be the absolute truth.

'I'm gonna call the cops.' Emma decided, and walked to her phone across the room.

Emotions aside, the situation was far too strange for her to deal with anymore. The boy claimed to be her son, and that was startling enough, but surely no one would forget their adoptive parents the second they met a biological one? The child could be sick, or misinformed, but either way Emma was determined to make it someone else's problem because she continued to feel ill-equipped to handle it.

Lifting the phone receiver, Emma halted her hand over the keypad when she heard a strange sound coming from nearby. It whirred, like something mechanical spinning too fast, and she had no idea what could make a noise like that. She turned to look at Henry, but the boy didn't seem to hear it – he watched her with desperately sad eyes, considering how he could possibly convince her not to send him away again.

'Do you hear that?' Emma wondered, as the sound got louder.

'Hear what?' Henry looked around the sparse apartment. 'I don't hear anything.'

Emma followed the noise to her bedroom, where she noticed a compass resting on her bedside table. The needle inside spun so fast it appeared to give off a blue glow. Emma heard Henry join her side, while she walked to the object with the wonder of where it had come from.

'Cool.' Henry commented.

Emma lifted it into her hand, and sat on the bed to examine it, while the boy climbed up beside her. The each stared at the strange object, though neither quite knew what it was doing.

'Did you put it there?' Emma asked him.

She was certain it hadn't been in her room the night before, or any other night previous, and thought it could only have appeared there now if the child had put it there. Her logic wavered when even Emma could not deny that she hadn't let the child out of her sight for a second, and so he couldn't have possibly dropped a compass beside her bed without her knowing.

'No.' Henry shook his head. 'What is it?'

'A compass, but I...' She inhaled a breath of air, her mind whirling with suspicion.

The sound and speed increased. With alarm, Emma moved to drop it back onto the bedside table, but the object remained with her; when she tried to release the compass, the thin chain snaked forward in mid-air to wrap securely around her left wrist in the form of a bracelet.

'Whoa!' Henry's eyes lit up with entertainment. 'That's so cool.'

'No, not cool.' Emma grumbled, trying to detach it. She couldn't figure out why the compass needle was spinning so fast, or how the item had latched itself onto her wrist, but she wanted it gone. Now.

'What's happening?' Henry inched closer to her side with renewed anxiety.

The floor trembled, and the compass needle abruptly stopped. The tiny arrow pointed directly at Emma, then a wave of air burst from the transparent screen. It spread through the room like an expanding force field - the glass of her window gave a shuddering sound, though it remained solid and unbroken. Emma didn't have time to answer the boy, or even theorise on what was going on, when the chain around her wrist glowed a bright blue to match the inside of the compass. Henry clung to her side fearfully, and the light enveloped him as well.

Emma wanted to grab a weapon or try again to discard the compass, but the light was hurting her eyes too much to see. Henry squinted against the blindness as well - the pair closed their eyes tightly shut, until a burst of blackness overcame them.

When Henry and Emma blinked, they both yelped with surprise. The bed and apartment were gone – replaced with a cleared patch of grass no bigger than Emma's bedroom had been. Surrounding them were tall trees in all directions, although a not-so-distance shoreline could be seen ahead through the mass of nature. The area was about as far from civilisation as geographically possible.

'What happened?' Henry panicked.

Emma couldn't speak. She could barely arrange her thoughts enough to realise she very much awake. She grabbed at the compass, which had become motionless and ordinary again, but was still unable to remove it from her wrist. Henry was more concerned about where they were, while Emma struggled to work out how it was possible that seconds earlier she'd been in her apartment and was now stranded on a tiny oval of land in the middle of an abundant forest.

'It worked.'

Emma and Henry turned their heads rapidly towards a stump, where a scruffy man with well-worn clothes sat to watch them. He looked pleased, yet his presence triggered a level of alarm in Emma's mind. She had no idea why.

'Who are you?' She demanded to know, glad to find someone to blame for whatever was going on.

She got to her feet, and kept Henry secured to her side – the boy eagerly allowed it, as he wrapped his arms around her and trusted Emma to keep him safe.

'Marvin.' The stranger said. 'But my name don't matter. It worked.'

'You did this?' Emma glared. 'How?'

'Magic.' Marvin shrugged, his face colouring with a smirk.

'No, that's not...' Emma couldn't deny the glowing, and now being stranded in a forest, but magic? No, that was something only in her nightmares – right? She refused to believe otherwise, as there simply had to be another explanation.

'Magic is real?' Henry, however, was far more open-minded about the concept.

'Of course not.' Emma rolled her eyes. 'Magic isn't real. It's only in fairytales, Kid.'

'Magic is real!' Marvin hissed, getting to his feet.

Emma clutched to Henry, and moved him slightly behind her, defensively protecting the boy without realising her own actions. All her instincts told her this man could not be trusted, and not just because he must be insane to babble that magic was real.

'What did you do?' Emma narrowed her eyes at the man.

'I sent that to you.' Marvin pointed to the compass weighing on her left wrist. 'I will be changing things, but I've seen things...Change is necessary. You'll see. You'll understand with time.'

'Okay.' Emma drew out her word, wondering just how insane the man was; he made less sense with each sentence. 'Whatever it was you did – reverse it. Take this stupid thing back.'

'No, no!' Marvin stumbled backwards when she raised the compass in his direction, as if it would burn him if he got too close. 'It's too late. You called it.'

'Called what?' Emma grumbled. 'Enough with the riddles.'

'The ship, of course.' Marvin chuckled. 'That compass is a beacon for stranded members of his crew. Time is frozen here, because of the curse, but it worked – you're here so it must have worked. There is an exception to the makings of the curse. Now, I can leave again, and you...'

Emma wanted to punch the man, but he spun on the spot and vanished right before her eyes in a puff of black smoke. No matter how rational she tried to be, Emma could not deny that something certainly wasn't right about this place. Glowing objects that couldn't be removed, being in her apartment one second and a forest the next, and now a man vanishing into smoke – if magic didn't exist than she was out of ideas.

'I have to get you home, Kid.' Emma said.

She knew, even if she'd somehow unintentionally gone from one place to another, surely someone would be looking for the child? She had to get him back to wherever he lived – it wasn't the law she was afraid of, but rather the fact she was content to use the child as a way to focus on forming a plan of action.

'Hold the boy close.' Marvin's fading whisper reached her ears, while Emma subconsciously tightened her protective grip around her son regardless. 'There - now he's where he belongs. He's home.'

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**Author's Notes:** Hook will be brought into the story next chapter. Thank you for reading! Please leave a review as I would very much appreciate any feedback or thoughts you have to offer.


	2. Call Upon a Pirate

**Author's Notes:** The video for this story is now up - the link is in my profile. Please review - enjoy!

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**~ Call Upon a Pirate ~**

Emma was on edge, understandably, as she looked warily around the forest she'd somehow found herself in. Glancing down at the seven-year-old she held close to her side, Emma frowned and stepped back with surprise. It was too natural for her to protect him, and it made her nervous. He wasn't her child, not really - her priority should only involve getting him back to his real family.

'Where are we?' Henry wondered.

'No idea, kid.' Emma exhaled.

Even if she'd only been camping a handful of times in her life, there was no way to work out their location just from observing the trees. The area was incredibly lush, with overgrown moss and healthy leaves, yet the singular piece of information Emma gathered from the view was how they were quite far from any nearby town.

She nudged Henry in the direction of the shoreline – it seemed like the smarter option, as opposed to wandering aimlessly through the trees until they became even more lost than they already were.

Henry tried to keep up with her frustration-fuelled strides, but soon stumbled on a stone and fell to the ground. Hearing him hit the leafy ground, Emma halted, and felt a new wave of guilt flush through her. Feeling further insecure about keeping the child safe, until she could find a way to get him home, Emma hurried to Henry's side and checked he wasn't hurt.

'I'm okay.' Henry told her, brushing the dirt from his palms and clothes.

'I'm sorry.' Emma winced. 'I'm not real good at this.'

'It's okay, really.' Henry looked up at her with a patient smile. 'You just need practise.'

'What I need is to get you home.' Emma sighed, and turned to leave the edge of the forest at a slower pace.

They emerged from the trees to walk across a sandy shore. There was blue water stretched as far to and beyond the horizon as they could see. The pair might have avoided being lost in a seemingly endless forest, but there was still no way for them to cross a huge ocean of water with any sense of direction or means of transport.

'What now?' Henry wondered.

'I'm working on it.' Emma frowned, and crossed her arms over her chest.

She was worried, not just for the safety of the boy she'd given away and somehow had returned to her, but for how out of her depth she was. Emma could handle a lot of things, thanks to all the years she'd spent growing up in the foster system, then going to jail, and becoming a bail-bonds person, but opening her eyes to find herself surrounded by a forest in a place she was entirely unfamiliar with was beyond her usual situation; her quick-thinking and survival tactics were better put to use during a confrontation, not wasted in an unknown thicket.

Emma and Henry had no useful tools or supplies with them; all they had was a compass she somehow couldn't remove from her wrist.

'What's that?' Henry wondered, pointing to the ocean.

Emma lifted her gaze to where he indicated, and spotted a ship on the water not too far away. It might be useful if they had any idea where they needed to go, though Emma was not at all familiar with either asking for help or accepting it.

'A boat.' She shrugged.

There was a rustle of leaves behind them, startling both mother and son, as the wind increased around them. A low rumble was heard, followed by a whoosh of air - Emma had no idea what it could be, but whatever the cause it was headed in their direction. Things were getting worse – being lost was one thing, but being under attack with no weapons and having a little boy to protect was more than Emma felt she could handle.

'We have to move.' Emma grasped Henry's hand, and tugged him back under the cover of the trees.

The shaded shelter provided little security, but at least they were no longer out in the endless open space of the shore.

The boy followed her willingly, and was frightened of the undetermined sounds swarming towards them. Emma hurried her pace, dragging them further into the forest, once she knew for sure that whatever it was out there - it was chasing them. She tried to identify the sound, but it didn't match anything she'd ever heard before. She wasn't about to find out by being caught, so she continued running at a managed pace, and tugged Henry along behind her.

They reached the clearing they'd first arrived at, where Henry tripped again in his haste to avoid danger. He braced himself for the fall with his hands and knees, just like before, but Emma didn't have time to react and check he was okay.

Winged creatures burst through the leaves of trees around them – each were half the size of Henry, and had glowing red eyes. The sound they made was a mix between a screech and roar, as they lunged forward mid-air to attack with shark claws. Their elfish ears, skeletal-fanged mouths, and leathery wings were the last details Emma could observe before her survival impulses finally kicked in.

She reacted without thought, using instincts she'd developed over the years – combined with buried skills she had no idea where they'd emerged from, and jumped into action. Emma grabbed a sturdy branch from the ground, and swung it like a baseball towards the nearest flying beast. Hitting it squarely in the chest with more force than she'd thought herself capable of, Emma gasped as it growled and fell backwards onto the ground like a swatted bug.

'Henry!' Emma was seized with panic, as she darted her gaze around the cloud of wings and claws to find her son.

He'd fallen only a few feet behind her, having slipped from her grasp, yet in amidst the chaos Henry seemed to be much further away. She'd only been reunited with the child for less than an hour, yet her surge of protectiveness for him had already built to the point it could not be denied.

Her heart clenched with fear when her son didn't answer her call. The only additional sound was a clash of metal against flesh. Emma spun around to catch a momentary glimpse of a shining blade of a sword, before she had to take another well-aimed swing at an impending beast.

'Alright there, lad?' The male wielder of the sword chuckled, his voice sounding of an accent and indicated his ease of handling such violent confrontations.

Emma heard him clearly, though any reply from Henry was drowned out by the creatures wails around the clearing.

Hitting another beast aside, Emma was able to move to see the dark-haired man with blue eyes. He wore a rather unusual leather attire, and swung his sword with perfected skill – cutting away another creature from where Henry sat fearfully on the ground behind the man. The blade wasn't the only silver surface shining in the sunlight, which streamed through the treetops - Emma caught glimpse of a hook instead of a left hand attached to the man. It almost made her halt, in recognition of it from her recent dreams, and books from her childhood, but the moment was too dire to afford a distraction.

'What are these things?' Emma called out.

She assumed his lack of alarm was in familiarity towards the creatures as well, not just the blunt thrill of a battle.

She whacked another to the ground, where it rolled and got up again. The man with the hook had sliced one in two, and it formed back together to resume the fight. Her denial of anything magical started to falter, as it was difficult to reject what she saw with her own eyes. Although Emma still wasn't so sure any of it was real; perhaps her eyes were somehow playing tricks on her.

'Imps.' The man replied, slashing another creature away before it could go near Henry. 'These ones are cursed with eternal damnation – hunting anyone who has crossed realms in most unnatural of ways!'

'Capt'n!' Another voice called out, as a different man rushed into the scene, brandishing a dagger. He had brown hair below his ears, and shortened facial hair. His eyes gleamed a shade of royal gold, as he scanned the area and join in the battle against the oncoming creatures.

'About bloody time, Vane!' The hooked man responded with enthusiasm.

'There's more approaching, Cap'n!' Vane declared, kicking at a low-flying imp.

Emma watched the two men with multi-tasked interest, as they stood around her son. Henry was wide-eyed, but was recovering from the shock as he slowly rose to his feet. The boy raised his arms to defend himself, and kept clear of the slashing swords, though the adults effectively prevented any imps from getting too close.

'We must retreat to the beach!'

Emma gasped when the sounds around them increased, and looked back to her son with worry for his safety. He watched her, as if reading her mind, then broke free from the small protective space the strangers had provided around him.

The hooked man noticed Henry running away, and went to grab a handful of his clothes - but stopped when he saw where the child was going. Emma met his blue eyes, then bent slightly to catch her son protectively in her arms. Relief washed through her for a moment, as Henry buried his face against her, then they straightened in remembrance of the continued danger around them.

The two men made a run for the beach; Emma grasped Henry's hand and led him along behind the pair. She wasn't fond of the idea, but they seemed to know more about the creatures than she did - and then men had considerably more effective weapons compared to the dented branch she still clutched in her other hand.

When the group of four gathered on the sandy openness of the shoreline, Emma and Henry stared for a moment at the large ship docked nearby. A ginger-haired man slid down some robes and drew his sword, with skipping a beat, to assist them. Emma, still stunned and confused, raised her branch to brace herself for more fighting while holding Henry close against her side.

However, the imps hovered close to the edge of the forest and decided not to come further – either because of the lack of tactical protection from overhead trees, or due to the increased numbers of their opposition.

'They're leaving!' Henry stated the obvious, relief flooding his features.

'I do believe introductions are in order.' The man with the hook sheathed his sword and approached them.

With her adrenaline wearing off, Emma took a stance of distrust and kept Henry close. She dropped the branch, confident her fists were all she need if the men annoyed her, and further straightened her posture to fix the man's blue eyes with her stubborn gaze.

However intimidating she'd attempted to be didn't work; it only amused him further.

'Killian Jones.' He stated his name. 'Though I'm more commonly known in these parts by my more colourful moniker: Hook.'

'That's original.' Emma rolled her eyes, eyeing his hook.

She looked over at the ship again, thinking she'd seen it before, and furrowed her eyebrows with uncertainty.

'Wait, like Captain Hook?' She asked with disbelief.

'You have heard of me.' He smirked.

'Yeah, in a fairy tale.' Emma scoffed.

'I don't know many fairies.' Killian shrugged, then indicated to the men at his side with a light teasing in his tone. 'These scoundrels be Vane and Malles, members of me pirate crew. Now, who might you be?'

'Emma Swan.' She replied, reluctantly.

'And this be your lad, I presume?' Killian offered the seven-year-old a smile.

'I'm Henry.' The boy answered, before Emma could stop him.

'A pleasure to meet you, Henry.' Killian nodded, then gave Emma a sly look. 'As with you, Swan. I'm sure you're one of many pleasures, milady.'

'Did any of the imps scratch you?' The ginger-haired man, Malles, stepped forward. Killian gave him a glance and sighed, then raised an eyebrow at their company to await the answer with less-friendly curiosity.

'No.' Emma replied, checking Henry as well. 'We're fine.'

'Thanks to us.' Killian said.

'I didn't need your help.' Emma frowned.

'Of course not.' He chuckled. 'I must say, it's a surprise to see anyone in these parts of the forest - wandering around without proper protection. There's far worse than just cursed imps in this forest.'

'We're not from here.' Emma admitted.

She hoped the men would at least provide her the information she needed to know their location, despite how strange the entire place was without the presence of their oddly-dressed presence. She was still unnerved by the appearance of those creature that shouldn't exist, and wasn't in the mood to deal with anything more than her need to get back to somewhere familiar. Emma wished she hadn't even left her bed to answer the door that morning, though she couldn't find the energy to blame it on the child standing at her side. She kept a hand protectively rested on his shoulder, and fought the urge to remove it to get away from Henry in continued anxiety of being faced with her son after all those years following her decision to give him away.

'That much be obvious.' Killian stated in a confident manner Emma was starting to find irritating, as if he was able to read her too easily and yet didn't take her words very seriously. 'Where are you from?'

'Newburyport.' Emma answered.

'I am unfamiliar with that port.' Killian frowned with puzzlement.

'It's in Massachusetts.' Emma supplied, but was met with three blank faces. 'America?'

'Never heard of it.' Killian stated, giving Emma and Henry a more attentive glance over. 'And judging from your attire, I'd wager you're from another realm entirely.'

'Another what?' Emma grumbled, missing the normalcy of the city and its inhabitants. 'No; Newburyport.'

'You can keep saying it, love, but I've still heard of it.' Killian smirked.

'Give me a map.' Emma demanded. 'I'll find it.'

'You know how to read a map?' Killian snorted, while the two men on either side laughed.

'Doesn't everyone?'

'You'd be surprised.' Killian watched her stubborn expression for a moment, then nodded and added a dramatic edge to his voice. 'Alright, milady, I shall indulge your request. There is no such Newbury Port anywhere near the Enchanted Forest, but if you insist upon viewing a map than it be a map you shall have. Vane, bring me map!'

'Aye, Cap'n!' Vane agreed, and hurried to the ship.

'Wait, the Enchanted Forest?' Emma felt dread creep through her.

Blinding lights, a stranger vanishing into smoke, a man with a hook claiming to be a pirate captain, and flying imps were bad enough, but now things were getting beyond ridiculous. She wondered if she'd slipped into a coma and her strange dreams had simply overtaken her mind; there was no way any of this could possibly be real, right?

'For a land lubber who can supposedly read maps, you don't seem to have a very firm grasp of your surroundings.' Killian's amusement began to slip as suspicion took its place. 'Do you even know where you are, Swan?'

'No.' Emma reluctantly confessed, raising her hand to brush stray strands of blonde hair out of her face. Doing so exposed the annoying compass still attached to her wrist, which Killian instantly latched his gaze upon.

'What is that?' He pointing to the object with his hook.

'A compass.' Emma shrugged. 'What, you've never seen a compass before? I thought you said you were a pirate.'

'Aye, but that's no ordinary compass.' Killian narrowed his eyes at it. His voice turned angry, as he stared at her with accusation. 'From who did you pillage it?

'I didn't steal it, if that's what you mean.' Emma glared back. 'I just...I don't know. It showed up, acted weird, and now we're here. What do you care?'

'Maybe it's magic?' Henry supplied eagerly.

'Because that thing also brought us, and me ship, here.' Killian explained, giving Henry a nod of agreement. 'That compass belonged to a member of me former crew. It's the ancient magic that binds it to the Jolly Roger; it called to us.'

'What now, Cap'n?' Malles asked, resting his grip on the handle of his sheathed sword in anticipation.

Killian looked from Emma's denying face, to the precocious child at her side, then eyed the brass compass for a moment longer. Brushing his fingers over his face in contemplation, the captain released a breath, and nodded.

'Change of plans, milady - it seems you'll be introducing us to this Newbury Port of yours, after all.' Killian announced. 'You must board the Jolly Roger.' He waved his hook behind him, making it clear he was insisting for her and Henry to board his ship.

'I don't have to do anything you say.' Emma rebelled.

She no longer wanted to be in the company of the crazy men who talked about enchanted forests filled with cursed imps, and compasses who magically called to ships. The fact they called themselves pirates should have been her first warning that something very unnatural was going on. She had to get her son away from the place, and somehow figure out where to go so they could return to proper civilisation.

'Aye, but you do.' Killian said firmly, taking another step closer to invade her personal space. 'That compass will wrap tighter, and become more painful. It will never come off until you board this ship and set sail to your home. Wherever that may be – this Newbury Port you speak of, or even this ship itself if you were to get comfortable.'

'And if I don't?' Emma fixed him with a look to indicate she had no intention of following his instructions or even believing his words of warning.

Using both hands, Emma pulled Henry's back closer against her. The boy decided it was wise to remain quiet this time, and merely observed the interactions between his mother and the pirate captain.

'We'll all be trapped here in this bloody forest.' Killian growled. 'Me ship and crew cannot leave without the compass on board, and you cannot part ways now you've met me - the captain. The only way you'll be rid of that compass is by allowing it to lead you home. It be an extension of this ship, milady; not one without the other now they've been reunited.'

'And you'll take us back? Just like that?' Emma had to admit the ship was a means of transport, and she had no desire to get lost in a forest filled with strange creatures. She'd handled crazy people before, and while the plan looked dangerous and baffling either way – Emma somehow had a feeling the captain was more trustworthy than she was comfortable with.

It was unexplainable, but Emma knew he would keep his word in taking them where they needed to go.

'How do I know I can trust you?' She asked, just to be sure.

'You don't.' Killian admitted. 'But, since this ship is your safe passage home, what other choice do you have? Take a leap of faith, love.'

'It doesn't sound very safe.'

'It has its moments.' Killian admired the sight of the Jolly Roger, then faced Emma again with a serious expression. He took a step closer, watching her with curiosity, and was pleased to see her determined gaze meet his without fear. Killian always did love a challenge, and Emma was quite an intriguing lass. 'I can't promise you safety, milady, but I can guarantee quite an adventure along the way.'

'The map, Cap'n!' Vane returned in a rush of eagerness, carrying a rolled map in his hands.

Killian indicated to Malles and Vane to unroll the aged map for Emma to see. She stepped around Henry, and Killian, to get a better look - convinced as she was that they were playing a trick on her regarding their location. The forests, water, and surrounding vastness inked upon the parchment was like nothing she'd ever seen before. Killian's face lit up with smugness as he watched her squint at the map - her face showed her confusion and further worry about what was going on.

'Fine.' Emma conceded with every ounce of reluctance. 'If you take us home, we'll board your ship – but only for the ride back.'

'As you wish.' Killian smirked with accomplishment, giving a little bow, and led them to the ramp.

Emma knew it wasn't the most ideal decision to go along with them, but she had no other option. It wasn't an easy thing to accept, but Emma knew wherever they were was a place they couldn't find their way out of without extra help, as much as she wished or denied otherwise. She had to get Henry home so she could return to her lonely life, safe from attachments or heartbreak, and put the entire bizarre day behind them. She quietly convinced herself that the charming pirate captain was in no way responsible for her ease of being convinced that boarding the ship was far safer than watching it sail away.

Emma didn't have to believe in magic compasses or dangerous imps – she just had to find a way to get herself and Henry back to Newburyport in one piece.

Stepping on wooden deck, with an enthusiastic Henry at her side, Emma looked around the ship and its outside appearance had deceived how big it actually was. There were two other men nearby, but Killian didn't waste any time introducing them in case Emma changed her mind before they could return to sea. The captain with the hook instead grabbed a rope to hoist himself onto a higher potion of the ship, enabling him to overlook his small crew and be easily sighted from anywhere on deck. Malles and Vane watched him as attentively as the other two yet to be introduced.

'The compass has been returned!' Killian announced, then looked over to their guests. 'As captain of this ship, I say: welcome aboard the Jolly Roger, Emma and Henry.'

'It's only so we can get back to Newburyport.' Emma reminded Henry, who looked far too excited at the idea of being on a pirate ship.

'I know.' Henry grinned up at her.

His smile of trust and enthusiasm calmed her nerves. Although, it wasn't enough for Emma to feel reassured by their pending journey on the seas, with a man whose only redeeming feature was the fact he'd saved her son from flying imps.

'Now, weigh anchor!' Killian commanded to his crew of four, who hurried around to obey. 'Adventure awaits!' He grinned from his position at the helm.

Killian looked over at Emma with a mischievous wink, leaving her to wonder what the heck she'd gotten herself into this time. Emma and Henry hurried to the side of the ship to watch it steer away from the shore of the strange land they'd ended upon. The forest faded further into the distance, until all that remained was the deep blue depths of the ocean stretching in every direction.


	3. The Misled Compass

**Author's** Notes: Thanks to every who read, reviewed, favourited, and followed so far! Sorry for the delay; this chapter was fully written, but I was outlining plans for many future chapters and needed to make sure this one fit into those plots before I put it up. Enjoy!

* * *

**~ The Misled Compass ~**

Killian hardly had to keep his eyes trained on the all-familiar sight of the ocean expanding far ahead of the Jolly Roger, as he was extensively practised with his task of keeping the ship on course. Standing at the helm, his equally oceanic blue eyes strayed from the waters to the blonde woman aboard his ship.

Emma had been leaning against the side of the ship, towards his right, for quite a while. She barely moved, just looked out at the ocean as though she awaited it to grant her unspoken answers. Killian could not deny how intrigued he'd become of her, even in such a short time, and yet felt it would be a dishonour to interrupt her contemplative space.

'Hi.'

Killian blinked away the sight of Emma, to look down at the seven-year-old boy staring up at him with a toothy grin. Killian returned a greeting, and shifted his gaze to check the sails high above their heads.

'Are you really Captain Hook?' Henry wondered with a tone of anticipation.

'Aye, I am.' Killian nodded, giving the child his full attention.

'So, you've been to Neverland?' The boy's eyes lit up with interest.

'I have.' Killian narrowed his eyes slightly, confused how knowing his name automatically associated him with that realm. 'What do you know of Neverland?'

'Not much.' Henry shrugged. 'I didn't know it was real!'

'I assure you, lad, that it is very real.' Killian said. 'It's not a place anyone wants to see, and no one leaves Neverland once they journey there.'

'You did.' The child pointed out.

'I was exceptionally motivated.' Killian sighed, his eyes darting to Emma's form again. 'It took a very long time.'

Emma hadn't moved, and Killian found it odd that she hadn't appeared to notice the fact her son had wandered from her side. Looking downwards at the curious boy, who continued to watch him with a smile, Killian briefly found it amusing how much smaller the boy appeared while standing beside the helm. He realised Henry was perhaps the youngest person to ever set foot on the Jolly Roger, which increased Killian's sense of duty to keep the boy from harm during the journey.

'Have you always been a pirate?'

'You're quite full of questions, aren't you?' Killian chuckled. 'And no, I wasn't always a pirate.'

He expected Henry to ask another round of inquiries, but the boy simply nodded and looked back at the ocean. I

t remained unchanging, so the boy's attention soon fell back to Killian. Henry stayed close for a while, merely observing the captain's actions and listening to the occasional orders given to the crew. When Killian decided they'd travelled far enough without knowing where they were going, he slowed the pace of sailing and gave the boy a glance as he passed ahead of the child.

'Swan?' Killian called over to her. His raised voice also caught the attention of ginger-haired Malles, who was polishing his sword nearby.

'What?' Emma turned around, thinking the captain would try to flirt with her again.

She fixed Killian with a stern gaze, which dropped to the sight of Henry standing rather proudly beside the man. She internally panicked with indecisiveness, trying to determine if she should pull the boy away or not. She decided to keep a close on on the captain, but so far Killian had saved her son and granted them a passage home – wherever that was.

Her instincts solidified her belief that Killian would likely never harm a child.

'Do we have a heading, Captain?' A tanned, and handsome, member of the crew stepped up to the slight platform near the helm.

The man's golden brown hair was tied back, enabling full view of his bright green eyes. A blood-red pearl earring was latched to the lobe of his right ear, which he fiddled with in anticipation. He was clearly the only person on the ship with impeccably clean and conditioned clothing, though no less a pirate than the others. He looked to Killian for an answer, though raised a curious eyebrow at the child positioned beside the captain with such confidence and intrigue.

'Swan? Gulliver wants to know our heading.' Killian slyly looked at her. He wondered where her land was located, and if she knew how to get there.

'I...' Emma winced when she realised she'd gained the attention from the captain, her son, and the rest of the four-man crew aboard the ship. 'I don't know.'

'Use the compass, love.' Killian teased patiently.

Emma narrowed her eyes at the object attached to her wrist, and remained silent. Killian wasn't sure what she was doing, and further left the helm to venture to where she stood. He peered over her shoulder at the compass, and huffed with disappointment when he saw the needle continued to spin without stopping.

'Interesting, but unhelpful.' Killian stated. 'Either you have no home, or you simply don't know where it is.'

'I live in Newburyport.' Emma stubbornly reminded him.

'I assure you, love, that where one resides isn't always one's home.' Killian winked, then reached to her wrist in the same manner a lover reached for a hand to hold.

Emma flinched at his touch, but remained firm and watched for his intentions. Killian traced the chains of the compass with his many-ringed fingers - he pretended not to notice her shiver at the touch, though his smirk was not so easily concealed. Pulling back, he watched as the chain loosened its hold on her wrist; it slipped apart, and fell towards the deck, but Killian easily caught it with his hook before it could descend further.

'Why didn't you do that before?' Emma grumbled. She was glad to be free of the object, and rubbed her wrist with relief.

'I told you; it can only be removed once you board this ship.' Killian rolled his eyes at the amount of conviction behind her glare.

Killian turned to see Henry hadn't followed him far from the helm, and gestured the boy over. Henry, though surprised by the non-verbal request, nervously obeyed and moved to stand in front of his mother. Killian bent to the boy's level, and held the compass towards him where it continued to dangle from his hook. He watched as Emma reacted by placing her hands on Henry's shoulders, unsure of pulling the child from the potential misfortune of having the compass trapped around his wrist, and Killian looked straight at her eyes to quell her concerns.

She halted in realisation of his intentions, and sighed to allow the man to continue.

'What do I do?' Henry wondered, letting the compass fall into his open hands.

'Focus on your home.' Killian instructed. 'Apart from your mother, you're the only one who can operate this compass.'

'Is it magic?' Henry asked.

'Aye.' Killian nodded, indicating to the compass with his hook. 'Go on; give it a try, lad.'

Henry held it tightly close to his chest, and closed his eyes as he tried to picture his home. He blinked, and held the compass out to show everyone. His disappointment was clear, as the compass needle continued to spin in a manner just as it had for Emma.

Killian was almost annoyed by the lack of direction, until he saw the arrow twitch and change the direction of its spinning.

'Ah.' He nodded. 'Where is your home, boy?'

'I don't remember.' Henry frowned.

His own admittance confused him; Henry had tried to picture his house and the yard, his bedroom, or anyone who might live with him. He hadn't been able to; it was nothing more than a blur of colour. 'I forgot, when I found my real Mummy.' He leaned backwards to look up at Emma.

'Our heading, Captain?' Gulliver asked again, as none of the crew were able to overhear the quiet conversation.

'The Misty Shores!' Killian declared for the whole ship to hear, and assuredly strode back to his place at the helm. He turned the wheel seven notches to starboard, then called to adjust the sails for increased speed.

The crew busied themselves with following the orders, while Emma side-stepped out of their path and continued to watch the captain.

'What's the Misty Shores?' Henry, ever so eager for information, rejoined the man's side.

'It's an island few know exists.' Killian explained. 'A place where lost memories are returned. Something happened to you, lad; it took away the memories of your home. I've seen it once before, and this island will restore those memories to you.'

'An island can really do that?' Henry gasped. 'How?'

'Let me guess: with magic.' Emma dead-panned, stepping up to join them.

'Aye.' Killian smirked at her. 'Magic, love. I take it you don't believe?'

'In magic?' Emma scoffed. 'Why would I? It's crazy.'

'No, what's crazy is that you have no idea where your home is.' Killian said quietly, fixing her with a barely-readable expression. 'Not even all the magic in the world can take you anywhere if you don't know where or what it is you intend to reach. Our best shot is to have Henry remember where his home is – because it's clear you don't have one.'

'You don't know me.' Emma frowned.

'Perhaps not.' Killian shrugged. 'But an orphan's an orphan, love. Until you know exactly what you want, Swan – you'll never make that compass work.'

Henry looked down at the compass still held carefully in his hands, though it was considerably large for the seven-year-old to hold. He traced the brass rim and chain, then admired the depth of the compass itself and the cardinal points, thinking about what Killian had said.

'Mummy?' Henry caught her wrist before she could walk away.

Killian glanced at the pair, ignoring the glare Emma cast him, and wondered about the way she flinched when Henry reached to her. He never got the impression she didn't care for her boy, yet she appeared to be quite at unease around him.

'Henry.' Emma sighed before the boy could say anything else. 'I can't be that. You already have parents who love you, and they're probably missing you right now.'

'What if I don't?' Henry asked, averting his gaze in a way both Emma and Killian became suspicious of. 'What if they don't love me?'

'I'm sure they do.'

Emma slipped her wrist from his small fingers, and walked away before she was flooded with emotions she couldn't allow herself to acknowledge. She moved to the far side of the ship, out of the way of the crew, and chose a random spot to gaze out at the ocean from.

'I don't understand.' Killian said to Henry, confused by the exchange he was certain Emma hadn't meant for him to hear. 'Is she your mother or not, lad?'

'She's my real mummy.' Henry said sadly, staring at the compass again, but didn't elaborate.

He wandered away to sit on a crate roped to the mast at the center, and was watched by a blonde haggard-looking pirate. The man brushed his heavily-jewelled hand over his beard, and observed the child's movements. The pirate looked over at his captain, to see Killian sternly watching him, then turned to resume knotting ropes nearby.

Killian continued to study the sullen look on the child's face, while also keeping an eye on the pirate - Riggs. He had hoped for a more adventurous journey to the Misty Shores, though Killian realised he might have invited more on board than just a mother and child. There was a lot of regret in Emma's eyes when she looked at Henry, and he was beginning to suspect why. She was clearly a guarded person as well, which Killian recognised it all too well from his own experiences.

He wanted to tell her that having no idea where one's home was located wasn't really crazy at all.

He also knew that returning the boy's memories of home wasn't going to put them on as easy a path to it as Killian hoped. The way the child gripped the compass, as if it was home itself, made Killian worry that perhaps they weren't only embarking on a trip from one area to another - but rather something none of them were going to come back from unchanged.

* * *

Killian handed the duty of the helm over to Gulliver, and stepped away to look up at the cloudy afternoon skies. He decided to being preparing for the rest of their journey to the island, his blue eyes scanning over the activities of the crew to ensure they wouldn't require his supervision for a while.

He called to Emma, and gestured Henry over, then led the pair below deck to give them a tour.

'There's a lot of quarters for only four members of your crew.' Emma commented, as they passed another room filled with hammocks and makeshift beds.

Emma and Henry were yet to adapt to the bobbing of the ship, which caused them both to stumble on occasion. Henry usually ended up sprawled out on the floor, whereas Emma was much better at bracing herself against the unsteady movements.

'Keep one hand on the wall, lad - until you get used to it.' Killian advised, when Henry went flying to the ground again.

He tried not to be amused, though neither were hurt by their lack of familiarity of living on a ship, but Killian still chuckled when he heard Emma righting herself with as much dignity as possible. Her stubbornness to not need assistance was obvious to him, despite his lack of comments on the matter.

'And my crew is usually much larger.' Killian answered Emma's question, giving her a glance as he kept up the rest of the tour. 'Twenty-five years ago, an evil queen cast a curse on this land, freezing it until a prophesied saviour can break it in about three years from now. That compass called to the ship, and I was able to return to the Jolly Roger to seek it out. It's the only exception to the curse, or so I've realised.'

'What about your crew?' Emma wondered, though rolled her eyes at the story he was sticking with. Evil queens and curses, really?

'Frozen in time, just like the rest. Or taken by the curse.' Killian sighed with disappointment. Among the crew were loyal and seaworthy men, to which he'd felt lucky to have aboard his ship. Their absence was noticeable to him, as he'd spent many years with them as members of his crew.

'Taken?' Henry echoed. 'What happened to them?'

'I'm not sure.' Killian replied. 'Most disappeared to a new land – a realm without magic. Your realm, it would seem.' He indicted his hook to Emma, then paused at a doorway to allow them to pass in front of him.

'Cool!' Henry exclaimed when he peered around the doorway.

The boy ran forward to the table in the center, where a large array of food rested. Most of it was bread and cheese, but the rest varied from delicious legs of meat to huge amounts of fruit.

Henry turned around, and his eyes pleaded with Killian for permission to try some of the food.

'Go ahead.' Killian nodded. 'You must be hungry.'

Emma narrowed her eyes and huffed, then walked forward to grab a grape. She popped it into her mouth, swerved around to face the captain again. She was not pleased to see him leaning against the door frame with a smug look on his face.

'So, this curse, or whatever, made everyone frozen except you because of a magical compass?' Emma summed up. 'Your crew remain frozen, right? What about the four on deck right now - aren't they part of your crew?'

'Me new crew.' Killian corrected. 'I found them along the way; men lost at sea, but with the sea in their blood.'

'The sea in their blood?' Emma frowned with scepticism. 'What does that mean?'

'Those, like yourself, who adjust naturally to a life at sea.' Killian observed her reaction, though had to read between the lines of her guarded expression. 'Sailors, for example. Or those who look out over the waves as if seeking answers, rather than just seeing endless water.'

Emma glanced away, and moved to butter some bread in avoidance to working out how to react. She knew he'd been watching her a lot in the past hours since they'd boarded the ship, and she was starting to realise Killian was able to read her in a way Emma felt uncomfortable with. It made things harder, though there was little she could do about it in such an unfamiliar situation or place.

'How long until we get to the...' Emma turned back quizzically.

'Misty Shores.' Killian supplied. 'We shall arrive by nightfall.'

'How is some weird island going to help us?' Emma remained disbelieving.

She watched him carefully, and bit into a chunk of break, while Henry happily chewed on a leg of chicken nearby.

'The island itself is rather dangerous.' Killian turned serious. 'It was once home to a hermit wizard who was banished from the Enchanted Forest, by Kind Leopold, for infecting people with dark magic. His last act before being banished was a revenge attack on King Leopold's daughter, Snow White.'

'Really?' Emma groaned, but allowed him to continue.

'Snow White? Henry looked up with excitement, his mouth full of food. 'Like in the stories?'

'What stories?' Killian wondered, but shrugged it off to continue his tale. 'The hermit wasn't able to hurt Snow White, but Kind Leopold worried the island wouldn't truly keep him from returning one day. He made a deal with someone very powerful to keep the wizard on the island, and remove the hermit's memories of life before it.'

'Did it work?' Henry asked eagerly. 'Was Snow White safe again?'

'Not exactly.' Killian said. 'She begun to have nightmares of the island, and of places or people she'd never seen.'

Emma perked up at those words, recalling her own situation of being haunted by dreams of strange lands and people during the night for the past year. She tried to remind herself that Snow White was just a fairy tale character, but her conviction was hindered by how truthful Killian was with his story. He truly believed it; though Emma knew belief alone didn't always make something real.

Emma tuned out of the rest of the conversation and story - tired as she was about narrations of magic and fairy tales, which everyone seemed to think were to be discussed in a more real sense than just being stories.

'Eat your fill; You'll need your strength.' Killian added, then turned to leave the room in awareness of some scuffling on the deck above. Likely Riggs was arguing with Vane again, and Killian would have to break it up with his usual threats of confiscating their rum supplies.

Emma narrowed her eyes at his retreating form, then sighed, as she sank into the nearest wooden chair and examined the presentation of food.

Henry had risen up on his knees to better reach the table, which Emma smiled lightly at the cuteness of how small the child actually was. Then the reminder of Henry being _her_ child sprung back into her mind, and Emma had to force her gaze away from him. Emma paid closer attention to the meal, and let her mind wander in relation to what was coming. She hated not knowing what to expect, but didn't want to worry herself sick, so she decided to take things as they came. It was something Emma was quite adept at, and she's survived much worse than wannabe pirates telling stories of nonsense.

'You don't believe, do you?' Henry's voice startled Emma from her thoughts.

'What?'

'In magic.' Henry elaborated. 'You don't believe.'

'No, I don't.' Emma scoffed. 'Magic isn't real, Henry.'

'Then how did we get here?' Henry tilted his head slightly, watching her carefully. 'We're on a pirate ship with Captain Hook, Mummy!'

Emma cringed at the title, and knew as well as Henty did that she didn't have a rational nor logical reason for those things. She wasn't even convinced he really was Captain Hook, but the silver addition to his left wrist, where his hand should have been, was very difficult to overlook. If she'd met him on the streets, or at a park, Emma would have written Killian off as crazy right away – but on this ship, sailing the seas of a supposedly magical land she had no idea how she'd gotten to?

Emma hated to admit it, yet she was becoming less sure of the things she'd thought she knew were absolute fact. Like how magic doesn't exist. She wasn't buying any of the fairy tale crap, but magic – well, magic was slightly less insane. And it was thoughts like that which made her roll her eyes, thinking she needed to get back to Newburyport before everything caused her to think crazy things so much she'd started to reconsider her definition of crazy.

'It's still not working.'

Emma looked over at the boy, to see he'd placed the compass on the surface of the table. A disappointed sigh escaped his lips, as he bent to look at the object with careful scrutiny.

'Here, kid.' Emma held out her hand, gesturing for him to pass it to her.

He did so, with hope she was going to do something to make it work, whereas Emma simply wanted to keep it away from the child. The object had already proven to cause trouble and confusion, and Emma would rather any damage from it was done to her instead of her son.

Holding the compass flat on her palm, Emma watched as the arrow continued to spin aimlessly around without knowing where to stop. She acknowledged it no further, beyond the fact it was odd for a compass to not do what it was designed for - unless it was simply broken and everyone was reading too much into it. She kept holding it, though, and occasionally surveyed its appearance while she ate.

Emma was becoming rather fascinated by it, without any belief that it was indeed magical.

She remained unchanging for a while, until she and Henry finished their meal and left the room. She grasped it tightly in her hand, to avoid losing it, while reminding her son of the captain's advice regarding navigating the rocking halls of the ship. Emma had never really been on a ship before, and was finding it rather soothing despite her former misgivings about the situation. After a few misdirections, Emma allowed her instincts to lead them back to the stairs where they could hear the voices of the crew working overhead. Emma let Henry climb up first, then followed behind him to ascend the deck - each paused with a sense of accomplishment.

Emma turned to meet Killian's gaze; he watched them until he was distracted by his duties at the helm. Wondering what had captured his attention, and made the crew hurry around to fulfil any tasks shouted to them, Emma turned to see the sight of land further to the distance. There wasn't much to identify yet, but she assumed it was their destination as the ship was being steers straight towards it.

'Henry!' Emma briefly panicked when rough wave sent the boy sliding across the damp floor of the deck.

She grabbed handfuls of his clothes to prevent him from hitting his head. In her rush, Emma accidentally dropped the compass - it slid away, and was halted by hitting the side of a crate.

'I'm okay.' Henry winced, sitting upright. 'Is that normal?'

'Yeah.' Emma reassured him, though she wasn't entirely sure of the truth behind it.

She glanced over at Killian, and noted no sign of unease. Helping her son to his feet, Emma realised the compass had fallen away. She looked for it, and went to retrieve it, while holding Henry's hand carefully in her own in case he had trouble remaining standing. Emma snatched the compass, unsure why she cared what happened to it, and led her son back up towards the helm.

It felt steadier there, for reason unknown to Emma, which likely had little to do with the ship itself.

'Alright there, lad?' Killian checked, having witnessed the boy's fall.

'Yeah.' Henry nodded. 'Are we nearly there?'

'Aye.' Killian returned, but frowned when he observed the crew's activity again. 'Scupper that, Riggs!' He barked, seeing a damp bag in the blonde-haired man's grip.

Riggs turned to frown at Killian, then tossed the small bag overboard the ship, before returning to his duty of adjusting the sails. Vane, Malles, and Gulliver were rushing around to secure ropes and clear areas – all in accordance to their captain's commands. Emma, for a very fleeting moment, almost felt compelled to join them. She shook her head, knowing she just felt bored leaning against the side not far from where Killian stood, and wanted to do something productive.

'I don't see it.' Henry said.

Everyone was making a big deal about the sighting, yet the boy wasn't tall enough to see it for himself. He grabbed the side of the ship to try and hoist himself higher in search of an indication of the island they were heading towards.

'Whoa, easy there!' Killian abandoned the helm, rapidly moving to grab a fistful of the boy's shirt to pull him backwards away from the dangerous edge.

He'd reacted much faster than Emma, who hadn't noticed her son's actions right away – Killian had also been closer, and got to the boy in time to prevent the lad falling overboard.

'Henry!' Emma scolded, ignoring Killian as he returned to the helm. 'You're not used to the ship yet; you need to be more careful.'

'Sorry, Mummy.' Henry blushed, looking downcast with guilt. 'I just wanted to see.'

'It's...okay.' Emma struggled, unfamiliar with the role of being a mother. 'And there's not much to see; just a bump on the horizon.'

She exhaled and leaned back, keeping Henry close again, as she glanced at the captain. Emma nodded with gratitude, and crushed down her own guilt for not being the one to stop Henry. Killian watched her with a sly smile, and Emma found it downright irritating how he seemed to have such an impact on her just from that crooked smile of his. She didn't speak, though, as Emma wasn't in the mood to bicker with him some more.

As an alternative, she distracted herself with the compass again – and was surprised the constant spinning didn't make her dizzy.

Feeling a small hand slide into her own, Emma looked away from the compass to see her son staring up at her with his trusting eyes. She felt guilty again, but also a new bubble of something she'd couldn't quite name. Her gaze fixed with his, Emma failed to notice the compass had slowed its spinning. The arrow twitched, then changed direction – it a clear, yet unobserved, indicator that while Emma still didn't know where or what her home was...her heart was opening to the idea that perhaps it could be found.

Perhaps home wasn't quite so far from her reach as Emma believed.

* * *

**Author's Notes: **Thank you for reading, and please take a moment to review. There are many adventures ahead, and this story is here for the long haul!


	4. The Misty Shores (Part 1)

**Author's Notes:** This chapter was way too long, so I spent a while debating before I decided to split it. Due to wanting to maintain the flow, I will be updating part two either later today or tomorrow at the latest. You'd have this chapter sooner if this site didn't die on me for 3 days. Thanks as always to every lovely reader, and to each person who reviews, follows, or favourites this story.

**Important:** _There is a picture in my profile to show what the crew look like; I use it every time I write them, and it's easier to have a picture than spend paragraphs describing them each chapter (attire, etc). Please take a moment to have a look for a better reading experience. Occasionally you may recognise some portions of dialogue, or a scene that may parallel something on the show - this story shows a vastly different Captain Swan journey, but some milestones I felt still needed to be met. Let's call it fate. Also, time is fluid in this story - some chapters will be day-to-day, and others a few weeks or even month later. There's 3 years before Emma etc find Storybrooke so there's a lot more chapters to get through, but the story doesn't end there. It's here for the long haul._

Enjoy, and please take a moment to review as I would greatly appreciate your feedback!

* * *

**~ The Misty Shores - Part 1 ~**

Killian's boots made a soft _thump_ sound as they landed on the sand of the island.

He stood alone, looking far across the thinly fogged shore to the tall jungle concealing the true surface of the land. His eyebrows scrunched together with concentration, as the captain exhaled a long breath and waited patiently for any sign of life. All he could hear was the sloping sound of the water smoothing over the sand, and the movements of his crew on the deck of the Jolly Roger docked behind him.

Turning, with a swish of his black leather jacket, Killian returned on-board with a curious expression in place to mask his concern. He looked around at the anticipating faces of those he had journeyed to the island with; his crew awaited orders, yet his gaze lingered on the blonde woman and her child for a moment longer than the rest.

'Make no mistake: this island is under a powerful spell.' Killian reminded those attentive to his words. 'We're docked here for directions, so to speak. If you're without memories you'd rather forget, you may join us on land – the rest shall remain here with the ship.'

'I'm staying then, Capt'n.' Vane said, nodding forcefully enough to sway the brown strands of hair across his face.

Vane took a step back, passing Emma who moved to stand with Killian. Emma kept a hand protectively rested on Henry's shoulder, while the boy remained close to her side. There was a brief moment of quiet pause. Gulliver traced a finger over the red-pearl earring attached to his left lobe, then sighed and stepped forward to accompany his captain.

'I be coming too.' Malles said. 'I have nothing to hide from; I will help protect the boy.'

Emma had been studying the expressions of the crew, and caught a look in the icy blue eyes of the ginger-haired pirate who had spoken. She narrowed her eyes, and spoke up about what she saw before Killian had the time to speak.

'I don't believe you.' Emma stated.

'You don't know me, Lass.' Malles frowned at her, as if she'd personally offended him.

'No, but I do have something of a superpower – I can tell when anyone is lying.' Emma said with fierce distrust. 'And you, _pirate_, are.'

Killian observed the way Malles straightened his posture, and the way the man's hand slid to the sword sheathed at his side. Killian cleared his throat to make himself the center of attention, and considered the situation. He glanced at Emma's strong expression, and decided to trust her word.

'Malles, remain here.' Killian said. 'Gulliver is plenty enough.'

Malles glared at his captain, but bowed his head just enough for the gesture to be one of compliance. He stood beside Vane, and the pair were joined by Riggs – who had no intention to so much of set foot on the island.

Killian brushed his hand over his stubbled chin, his mind in conflict with itself, and directed his blue eyes back upon the image of the island. He'd been there before, so many years ago, and he could tell something was off with the place this time; the sheer air around him felt misplaced.

'Captain?' Gulliver prodded when they didn't leave the deck.

'We require additional supplies.' Killian said, and led the way below deck.

Emma and Gulliver shared a look, then followed behind him with Henry rushing to keep up. The small group emerged into a room Emma considered to be part general storage and half armoury – there were cupboards against one wall, and a set of carefully aligned swords on another.

'I dare say, lass, that you'd be far better equipped with proper attire.' Gulliver indicated to a nearby cupboard towards her right.

Killian looked over, as if realising for the first time that Emma and Henry had no belongings with them, and nodded in agreement.

'Aye.' Killian said, then crossed the room to examine the weapons and leather satchels.

Henry and Gulliver joined him, while Emma searched for some comfortable boots to wear. She slipped a leather vest over her thin T-shirt, and decided she was more interested in the swords than her style. Instead of immediately joining the others, she busied herself with sorting through more cupboards for anything that might fit Henry. Emma was surprised to find some smaller clothes stashed in a wooden box at the bottom of a cupboard – they were clearly for a child, though likely still a bit too big to fit Henry.

Killian stood at a corner, where a cutlass with an embroidered golden handle sat shining in its ceremonious place on the wall. He slowly reached for it, and lifted the cutlass down to hold it with pride. A flicker of pain crossed his face, but was quickly concealed when Gulliver approached him.

'Are you certain you wish to bring that?' He asked carefully, with respect for its importance. 'Liam-'

'Is gone.' Killian said in a low voice.

He wasn't aware of anyone else being able to hear him apart from Gulliver, though Henry could easily do so from where he lingered nearby. The boy had enough restraint not to touch any of the weapons, so his presence was freely overlooked by the men.

'My brother would deplore a cutlass of such beauty to sit here gathering dust.' Killian added. 'We need it, if we have any hope of succeeding in this bloody task.'

'Do I get a sword?' Emma interrupted, passing a pair of boots and a jacket to Henry.

The boy grinned at the idea of dressing the part, and eagerly dropped to the floor to try them on. He fell oblivious to further conversation, though Gulliver and Killian made no further comments regarding the special weapon the captain sheathed in place of his previous one. They looked at Emma with amusement, though her firm expression implied her question was more out of politeness than actually daring to go anywhere unarmed.

'Cutlass, love.' Killian smirked, and moved to get her one from nearby. 'This will do.'

'It'll do?' Emma raised an eyebrow, unsure of what he meant by his selected phrasing.

'Do you know at all how to fight with such a weapon?' Killian asked, with a knowing glint in his eye. The dead-panned look on her face was answer enough. 'As I said, it'll do.' He winked at her, much to Emma's annoyance.

Killian walked around her to continue into the corridors outside the room to venture back above deck. Gulliver chuckled at the exchange. He switched his current weapon for a better one as well, then trailed along behind his captain. Henry stood proudly in his additional clothing of boots and a jacket, which distracted Emma from her musings of irritating men. The boy allowed Emma to lead him back through the increasingly-familiar hallways, unaware of the increased determination in her strides.

Killian gave his remaining crew members a last glance, as he prepared to lead the others ashore. Vane and Malles resumed their lookout and cleaning duties nearby, and Killian noticed Riggs with scrutiny when the blonde-haired pirate turned to head below deck.

Stepping down the gangplank and onto the sand, Killian warily watched the jungle for signs of danger. Something still felt amiss, but he moved forward without the belief he could be leading them into a trap. Not yet, anyway. His right hand rested on the golden handle of his cutlass, and though Killian was alert for anything out of place, he still casually listened to the conversation behind him as if it was any ordinary day at sea.

'So, you don't have any memories you'd rather forget?' Emma asked the tanned pirate, with an interrogative tone.

She didn't believe a mere island could force someone to relive their darker memories, but the others thought such a thing was true – therefore, she was curious. So far the only member on the ship she felt she even remotely knew was the captain - even more so than her little boy. Emma was not comfortable with essentially living with strangers during the journey; she wanted to know more about them – who they were, and their intentions.

'It be quite the opposite in nature, milady. I have an abundance of terrible memories, but none I wish to truly forget.' Gulliver said, walking confidently tall beside her. 'When a man is deathly ill, it is his pain that reminds him he's still alive – still able to feel anything at all. I welcome my horrendous memories, as much as I accept the lessons they taught me. I do not fear what has already come to pass.'

Emma had nothing to say to that, so she fell quiet again.

Luckily, they didn't venture very far into the overgrown vegetation before Killian indicated to a near-perfect circle of dirt with a statue on its edge. It was hard to say what it resembled exactly, apart from the eagle wings spread on either side of the figure – there were tiny faces and symbols carved into the wooden object in a mingled pattern encircling it.

Emma begun to question everything, as she watched Killian encourage Henry to stand in the circle. They'd spent too much time on the boat, she thought, because it was clear their level of crazy kept growing. She didn't know what they expected from a patch of dirt near the edge of a lush jungle to do, but Emma certainly reconsidered her decision to join them on the journey instead of taking the risk of getting lost in the forest she'd first arrived at.

'Stand very still, lad.' Killian instructed. 'Close your eyes, and don't direct your thoughts – allow them to wander. When-'

A loud noise interrupted their presumed safety; the snap of broken branches and hurried footing. Seconds later, a young man in slightly battered clothing, burst through some large leaves bigger than Henry himself, and stumbled hazardously onto the ground. He gasped for air, his eyes wide with fright, and stared at his unexpected company.

'He-he took her!' The man gasped with panic. 'I couldn't-I wasn't-!'

'Who took who?' Emma frowned, confused, but was equally alarmed as the others.

'My sister!' The man shouted with a higher tone. 'My sister – HE took her! She's alone, in a cave...Gods, my sister!' His eyes filled with tears, as a groan of agony escaped his lips.

'Is she hurt?' Henry's eyes were wide with concern. 'We have to help! We have to save her!' He directed at Emma, then the other two.

'Whoa, kid, hang on.' Emma frowned.

'It's dangerous, lad.' Killian added. 'We can't-'

'You have swords!' Henry reminded them, and pointed to the distraught man who was clearly unarmed. 'You can help her.'

'Now why the bloody hell would we do that?' Killian grumbled. 'It's a fool's errand, lad. This wretched island-'

'She's out there all alone.' Henry's shoulders slumped with sadness. 'Like I was.'

The boy saw the looks on their faces; the adults just stood there with clear indication that they weren't about to try to save the girl who was all alone in the jungle. They had swords; Henry couldn't understand why it was a debate whether or not to help someone in need. With furrowed eyebrows, Henry clenched his fists at his side to spur on his determination.

With unexpected speed, he spun around the left the circle to rush into the mass of trees in the direction the man had emerged from.

'Henry!' Emma gasped when her child vanished among the ferns.

She acted only on instinct to charge after him without a care for anything else in the world.

'Stay with him!' Killian threw over his shoulder to Gulliver, as he followed Emma after the runaway boy.

Gulliver drew his cutlass, and glared down at the man still crouched on the ground in mourning of his sister's fate.

'HENRY!' Emma screamed through the mass of green blurring passed her, as she ran in search of her son.

She could hear Killian behind her, though he didn't join in calling for the child. In fact, he had the nerve to tell her that shouting was not the wisest idea.

'Swan-'

'This is your fault!' Emma growled, spinning on the spot to fix Killian with an angered look beyond all reason.

They'd reached a brief clearing, to catch their breath and realise blindly running around wasn't going to help when they didn't even know where exactly Henry had sped off through.

'It's not my lad who ran off.' Killian defended. 'We will find him, Swan.'

'You said this island is dangerous.' Emma stressed. 'How dangerous?'

'I never ventured this far.' Killian said, his eyes lifting to the higher points of the trees when a sound emerged around them. 'But we're about to find out.' He said, drawing his brother's cutlass in preparation for battle.

Emma did the same with her own weapon, though with far less confidence than the captain - she'd only ever really fought with her fits, feet, or a gun. Trekking through a jungle with a sword was something entirely new to Emma, and she didn't like it one bit.

There was a rustling in nearby bushes, and a strange cry that could only be from a bird - though it sounded like none they'd ever heard before.

Silence fell upon them.

Emma and Killian exchanged uncertain gazes, and the unnerving quietness remained. They relaxed their postures to continued their journey forward, through the overgrowth of ferns and leafy shrubs growing in the shade of the tall forest trees all around them.

Emma, a person used to confrontations with people she'd set out to specifically find, kept her gaze fixed ahead. It was second nature to her to always focus on a person's face to determine their intentions and truthfulness, therefore she easily avoided being swiped across the face by rebounding leaves, and was sure to steer Killian from the fate as well.

Killian, a sword-fighting pirate, was all too aware of his footing as he wandered over leafy grounds and small stones. He didn't even have to think about it, after all the years of wielding a weapon with the training and knowledge of careful footfalls, and thus nudged Emma's elbow more times than either counted to prevent her from crossing paths with treacherous bumps or suspicious spots on the forest floor they ventured over.

The pair were a perfect team – each in synchronisation with the other, and watching out for another, yet without a single thought or realisation to the notion. Emma never stepped on or tripped into anything because of his subtle indications of forewarning, and Killian always reacted to avoid or swerve away from large leaves or pointy branches under her indirect guidance.

When they halted once again, with the return of ominous sounds, the pair stood back-to-back without touching; with drawn weapons and similar postures, prepared to face the oncoming attack of giant bats. It was as though they'd been a team for years, not the reality of having only met earlier that day. They acted as if having gained intimate knowledge of how the other fought, and the manner in which to assist when needed.

They were unaware of it until Emma had slashed away the first bat, and Killian easily ducked another.

In the flare of a battle with flying, screeching creatures much alike, yet so vastly different, to when they'd first encountered each other, Emma and Killian's eyes met across the space of several feet. His confidence became her own, just as her resoluteness became his.

After having battled cursed imps, Emma hardly took notice that the bats were larger than they should be, though she was more concerned about Henry than herself at the moment. She slashed her weapon with no training or precision, yet surprised both herself and Killian when another Bat fell from her onslaught of a sharp blade.

'Not bad, Swan!' Killian praised, knocking aside another bat as though it was nothing.

The creatures weren't very fast, and the attack was more from nature than need; it only took several minutes for the beings to realise they were losing, and to take to the higher skies to flee the scene.

'I can hold my own.' Emma said, sheathing her cutlass with a sigh of relief.

'I have no doubt.' Killian stepped closer, his smirk of amusement and interest making her stomach flop with both nervous energy and uncertainty.

Her eyes, however, betrayed her as Emma returned his flirtatious smile with one of her own.

'I mean no offence, but we make quite the team.' Killian finally noticed, moving the slightest bit closer to her. He could see her mind racing, and it sparked a fire within himself to dance around her in challenge of her own.

Emma rolled her eyes, and turned to resume their walk deeper into the darkening mass of vegetation. She berated herself in her mind, and mentally insisted her quickened heartbeat was purely from the short battle with the flying pests. It had nothing to do with the look in those stunning blue eyes, or how close he'd been to her – enough to feel his warm breath in the air between them. No, it was just the bats, not the charming pirate still evenly paced at her side.

With a gasp, Emma halted when Killian's silver hook moved in front of her face to catch a leaf about to slap her squarely in the forehead. She growled at herself, then dared to glance sideways at his equal surprise. His gaze and smile were lit with amusement; he never said a word, yet Emma saw the tease in his entire form.

Yes, it was certainly the bats who had her on edge, but the damn pirate was starting to annoy her.

They walked onwards, with Emma trying to worry more about her son than how close the man beside her was becoming in such a short time. Her thoughts and actions were abruptly side-tracked when she spotted something ahead. Seeing it move, and realising it could be dangerous, Emma expected Killian to stop as well. He didn't; his gaze was fixed elsewhere to the higher parts of their path, as if wondering what other perdition the sky would deliver upon them.

Emma made a sound of protest, and lunged forward to swerve him around. She had no idea how preventing him from stepping into the dark sludge required her arms to wrap entirely around his middle – so closely her cheek touched his chest, but it was how they'd ended up in the space of a few seconds.

'It's about bloody time.' Killian grinned, wrapping her further into an embrace while she squirmed to steady herself.

His hook brushed some hair from her shoulder, and Emma knew she had to put as much distance between them as possible. What bothered her wasn't the contact in itself, despite her life-long lack of it, but the way she hadn't initially wanted to let go; she had to remind herself to release him.

'It looked bad.' Emma stepped back, ignoring how reluctantly he allowed her to, and indicated to the thickened, brownish liquid smeared across their paths.

'No need for an excuse, love.' Killian teased, though sighed and glanced over to where she pointed. 'Ah.' He nodded with recognition towards what he'd almost rather foolishly stumbled into.

'It looks like mud.' Emma tilted her head, wondering if mud was supposed to look...well, oddly alive, in sorts.

The way it occasionally sloshed, as though it recently consumed something gaseous, was not at all encouraging.

'Aye.' Killian rested his hand on his belt with another nod. 'The island itself is under dark enchantments. The mud here will entrap anything that falls into it, until the wizard himself comes to collect them.'

'It's like quick sand?' Emma frowned.

'Hardly. The victims don't necessarily sink, but cannot leave on their own. Unless, of course, they too are rather adapt with magic.'

'Whatever.' Emma was tired of the magic talk, and just wanted to find her son. 'Where's Henry – how are we going to find him in this-this jungle?'

'Patience, love.' Killian said, looking around for any indication of where to go next.

He didn't want to risk venturing too deep into the abyss of trees and danger, yet knew they had to locate the child as quickly as possible if they wished to find Henry unharmed.

'To hell with that!' Emma's frustration and worry began to grow. 'He's only seven – a little boy! Henry is out there alone, again, and I can't get to him. I can't help him!'

Killian didn't speak, though his eyes drifted to her in awareness of the amount of emotion she'd put behind her words. He read the expected concern in her eyes, but it was almost clouded over with regret and hurt. He recognised perhaps Emma had lost the boy before, though with far more choice behind it, and now came to feel intense remorse – perhaps in realisation that the boy was alone without her, and it had been a mistake regardless of what her initial intentions might have been. Internally, he vowed to ensure a happier reunion, and Killian felt a strange twist in his heart at his decision - as though uncovering his own concern as well. When the boy ran off, he'd frankly been rather annoyed with the delay, but now Killian was worried as well. It was a dangerous place for them and they were armed; Henry was merely a small child, just as she'd said.

They had to find the boy, and fast.

Turning away from her pained face, wondering if he should speak reassurances he hardly felt or remain silent in understanding agreement, he spotted a scuff mark on the ground. Bending to have a closer look, Killian exhaled with relief and indicated to a further right path.

'He appears to have tripped.' Killian explained, leading the way forward. 'We're getting close, Swan. Your boy will be back in your arms before you know it.'

This time Emma was quiet.

She cared less for leaves and overgrown roots, as she charged forward after the pirate. As a distraction from her rising panic, Emma listened to Killian speak of how he could find any number of things if he was intent enough on the task – especially treasure. He was a pirate, after all. She narrowed her eyes at his words while they walked, noting the layers of eagerness in his tone when he mentioned the island holding some of the rarer forms of gold in a mountain area so few were fortunate enough to venture upon. Emma glanced at the ground, observing the way it begun to slope upwards, and felt another chill of suspicion wash through her senses.

Emma didn't like trusting a stranger, as Killian so evidentially still was, and started to question his motives. With all the excited talk of gold coins and silver rings, Emma wondered if perhaps his motives were not as pure as he'd previously portrayed. She glanced around, seeing the way the shrubs were parting to allow more space – which was assisted by Killian slashing larger leaves away with the blade of his cutlass, and discreetly observed the small foot-prints in the dirt.

She was close to her son – but Killian was already far too close to her.

'I'm surprised we've made it this far.' He continued to talk, unaware of her heightening inner conflict. 'With all the magic he put in place, I'd imagined the wizard knows we're here...So near his precious treasures.'

Emma quickly scanned the ground around them, seeing the dampness had clearly revealed her son's footprints along the path that continued to steep upwards. She inhaled a sharp breath, and lurched forward before she had the chance go change her mind. Killian made a sound of alarm, when her palms pressed roughly against the back of his leather jacket. She'd been so close to his side, and it provided her with the chance to take advantage and shove him far enough to their left for him to stumble into a now-familiar sludge of brown mud.

Killian winced at the contact, and had enough foresight to keep his arms raised so they wouldn't sink him or his cutlass further into the thick substance. He briefly panicked as he sank, though only up to his waist, and stared over at Emma with confusion.

'Why?' Killian growled.

'I...I can't.' Emma stuttered, from where she stood over him near the edge of the large pond of mud.

She ignored her surprise that what he'd said about it was true – he sank only so far, and was unable to get himself out. She refused to believe it was magic. In fact, Emma was so done with all the nonsense regarding magic and wizards entirely. Crazy wasn't something she should trust, and all she needed to care about was finding her son and getting him to safety.

'Look at me, Emma.' Killian insisted, almost undoing all her resolve from the vulnerable use of her first name. 'I brought you here to help your boy remember. I risk my own safety, and that of my crew, every moment I spend helping you get home. Why do this to me now?'

'I can't...' Emma looked over her shoulder to the path where her son had been not so long ago. 'I can't take the chance that I'm wrong about you.'

She tried to explain, fighting her own emotions and forcing herself to remember that Henry was all she had to worry about. This man went on about impossible things, fancied himself a pirate from a fairy tale, and talked more about treasure than a plan to rescue her boy.

In her insecurities, Emma had seen flashes across her mind of all the other moments things had been just as risky – and all the times it had ended badly for her. Being abandoned to jail by Neal was only a part of that, though the biggest part, and Emma was too afraid to take another jump. Her heart could only take so much, and this leather-clad man with a sword could read her too easily – he was too close in only one day since she'd met him. That scared Emma, and she didn't want to be hurt again.

'I'm sorry.' She added, mostly meaning it, and turned away.

'Swan?' Killian was in disbelief that she actually intended to leave him there in the mud, at the mercy of a ruthless wizard, after everything he'd done to help her.

His own fear crept into his awareness, as Killian moved some more in hope of freeing himself – yet at no avail. He stared at her retreating form, until she vanished along the leafy path and out of sight, as the sting of the betrayal bled through his senses.

'SWAN!'

Emma closed her eyes for a moment, hearing the fading echo of his voice, and felt regretful already. Regardless, she charged onwards like she always did. She had to find her son; Henry was all that truly mattered to her.

It didn't occur to Emma in that moment how leaving Hook behind in the mud wasn't at all practical to their escape – he was still the captain of the only means of transport she and Henry currently had. But that was precisely the point; Emma wasn't thinking at all, she was feeling. She felt the fear, the dread, and above all her own sense of sadness for every incident she'd been in a situation like this before – for each moment she'd been left behind, betrayed, lied to, dismissed, or all those things at once.

Her heart wasn't a plain glass window; it was made of many shards forming a window that showed every break and each crack it had to mend in order to remain whole. Every time it broke, it hurt just a little more than the last time, and took just a bit longer to reform. On the island, Emma wasn't just afraid for herself – but for her son. She had someone else's heart and life to protect. Emma couldn't risk being broken again, but she also certainly wasn't about to risk a betrayal to cost the life or future of her child. Henry was the boy she hadn't thought would have a future with her, and yet there they were on an unfamiliar island filled with memories and treasures - where Emma understood now, for the first time ever, that her son was the greatest treasure she would ever have to fortune of knowing.

Much like the pirate she'd left behind in the mud – Emma wasn't about to allow that treasure slip away. She wasn't letting her son go again, and no pirate was going to compromise that regardless of her own thoughts or feelings. With practised skills, hardened from her upbringing in the foster system, Emma shut out anything that might hinder her mission to search out her son and take him somewhere safe.

Emma continued onward, keeping her hand rested on the handle of the cutlass at her side, and forced out the guilt chilling the lining of her stomach. She followed the prints in the ground, thankful it was more dirt than leaves now, and gasped when she emerged into a small shady clearing.

'Henry!' Emma shrieked with alarm, rushing forward to where the child lay unmoving on his side.

His face and palms were smudged with dirt, and he didn't react to her call. She skidded onto the jungle floor beside him, and pulled the child onto her lap. An icy fear seized her heart. Emma shook him lightly, then released her captive breath when Henry groaned and slowly opened his eyes.

'Mummy?' He muttered, sounding sleepy.

'Henry.' Emma whispered, squeezing her tearful eyes shut, as she pressed her forehead to the top of his head.

A wash of emotions spread through her – emotions she never realised she was capable of feeling for a single human being all at once. She'd almost lost her boy forever, for a second time, and Emma was not well-equipped to handle that.

'Come on.' Emma insisted, getting up and straightening Henry on his feet as well. 'Are you hurt? Are you okay?' She anxiously checked him over for injury.

Mostly he just looked tired and dirty.

'No, I'm okay.' Henry shrugged, though his expression showed his nervousness. He looked around, recalling where he was, and frowned at the vacancy around them. 'Where's Killian?'

Emma swallowed a stubborn gulp at the question – not just because of her guilt or being unsure how to explain to her seven-year-old of how incapable she was of allowing another to hurt and betray her, but because of the name.

Killian.

She hadn't heard Henry use it before; previously it was the moniker "Captain Hook", if the boy addressed the man at all. She remembered the way her son followed him around, so trusting and open – yet in a way he wasn't with the other members of the crew in awareness of how little the boy knew about them. She then recalled how Killian had trusted her word before coming onto the island – the captain who knew his crew so much more than she ever thought another person able to, and yet with one mention of her not believing a lie...Killian made the man remain behind. Then there was the truth in his words only minutes sooner – he had taken risks for them, to enable their venture home on his ship.

He had already surpassed most people she'd met in her life who had later betrayed her.

All of those things Emma might have shoved aside again to convince herself she was right to protect herself and her son, but the look in the child's eyes crumbled those convictions in an instant. He was only seven, and without any notable hardships in his life to which Henry gained any need to conceal his emotions or thoughts; Emma could read his face with frightful ease, just as Killian had read her. Her son was worried about Killian – the boy liked and trusted the man, and Emma could not find it within herself to be the one to rip that away from Henry due to her own fears. Not when her own beating heart longed to give him just a little bit more of a chance, and her mind whispered that perhaps he was different. Perhaps, this one pirate wasn't like the rest? Such hope was something Emma usually forbid, but it took too much effort this time to hang onto it. Under Henry's wide eyes, Emma let those usual barriers slip away.

Just once, she told herself – just once will she let something like this happen again.

Emma struggled with her decision, and wondered if maybe she'd made a premature choice in leaving him behind. Maybe it was a mistake to distance herself so soon? Her mind continued to whirl with doubts, until a sound above made her mind align itself without her input. If Killian was truly unable to leave the mud without assistance, then she'd essentially left him for dead. No matter if he might betray her in the future – the fate she'd left him to, Emma was certain he did not deserve.

Looking back at the green eyes of her son, Emma grasped his hand and led the boy back onto the path. She had to find the supposed pirate captain to make sure he really was stuck, and if so – correct her mistake.

~ NH ~

Killian, however, had no idea that such doubt could resurface in Emma's mind.

He assumed that, like all previous moments of his past, once she turned her back than not a single thought of him would cross her mind again. All he knew for certain was the thick sludge pressing around him to keep him stuck within it. He made sure to keep his brother's cutlass away from the vile substance, but his emotions made it hard to form a reasonable chance of escape beyond his desire not to drown in the sludge or be cursed to death by a wizard. In all his years of hardships, Killian knew Emma's betrayal should not hurt as deeply as it did. And yet, Killian simply could not see past it any easier than he could remove himself from the mud which held him captive.

He understood her priority was her boy, and she'd been hurt many times in the past - judging by the walls she had up around her heart, but Killian had hoped he'd proved himself enough to be granted more the sparse chance than what she'd given him. Did the lass intend to tell his men he'd been killed, then sail away not only with his only hope of freedom – but his crew and the Jolly Roger as well? He should have known better – the last woman he'd allowed to sail on his ship was Milah, and that had ended very badly for him. The compass Emma possessed had given him little choice, but still – there were other ways.

Killian vowed not to make the same disastrous error again.

Hearing a sound approach him, his thoughts were put aside to encourage his need to survive. The wizard would know of his predicament, and surely come for him; Killian knew once that happened, it would all be over.

'Bloody lass!' Killian grumbled, fighting the mud with further aggression, but with no success.

His widened eyes searched for the source of the oncoming sound, readying his weapon just in case, and froze when he saw two mismatched figures burst from behind a mass of leaves.

'I knew you wouldn't leave me here to rot.' Killian smirked at Emma.

Despite his words, she saw the falseness behind his statement - his eyes only expressed a surprised relief.

'I see you found the boy.' He added, indicating to the child gawking at him from the sidelines next to her.

'You're stuck!' Henry worried.

'Quite perceptive, aren't you?' Killian said dryly, then looked expectantly to Emma. 'You are here to spring me from his wretched mud, I assume?'

Emma saw his uncertainty; his own guarded walls, and felt another stab of guilt. Instead of wasting time putting his concerns to rest, she looked around for a way to pull him out. She too had heard a sound nearby, and didn't want to be out in the open for too long.

'Can you reach?' Emma grabbed a thick vine hanging from an overhead tree, to keep her own balance, and stretched her free arm towards him. 'Henry, don't move.' She added, feeling the boy shift closer to her.

'I wanna help!' Henry whined.

'I don't want to have to pull you both out!' Emma grumbled. 'Stay there.'

While Henry nodded and watched with bated breath, Killian moved forward as far as he could and inched his many-ringed fingers towards her slender hand. He'd put the cutlass carefully into his mouth, much like one might with a dagger, to free their hands. He prayed he wouldn't end up cutting himself from the blade's superior sharpness, long ago carved from the finest metals available to the Royal Navy commanded under King William.

'I thought you didn't want to take the risk, love?' Killian asked, referring to her short speech earlier.

'You would have done the same thing.' Emma frowned, trying to close the distance between them.

'Actually, no.' Killian stated with all seriousness.

Emma tried to look away when his blunt honesty shone through. It made her uncomfortable, yet furthermore thankful for Henry unintentionally motivating her to change her mind – to come back for the man she'd been prepared to leave behind in the mud.

When their hands met, each gripping the other tightly, their pair met eyes for a brief moment. Killian relaxed slightly upon seeing the genuine remorse in her eyes, and in turn expressed his understanding gratitude back to her. Emma gave a mighty tug, and was surprised by how easily he appeared to slide through the mud as though it had turned to brown water around him.

Emma stepped back to avoid being crashed into, which inevitable led to Killian falling rather ungracefully onto the ground. He gave a laugh of relief, and sheathed his cutlass with a long exhale. His clothes weren't too muddy, considering how far he'd sank, though he spared no further concern as the close-by noise increased in volume.

'We have to go.' Emma nodded, voicing his thoughts, and led the way back into the mass of leaves and bushes.

'What about the man's sister?' Henry reminded them. 'We have to help her!'

'Henry, not now-' Emma frowned, but came to a standstill between Killian and her son.

A swirl of a maroon cloud appeared many feet away across a clearing. An aged man with stringy silver hair and beard stood before them in its place. His hands were tucked behind the back of his dark red robe, as his eyes hungrily fixed on the trip standing across the space of leafy ground ahead. His eyes were what startled them most; each orb looked be composed of mirrored shaped formed around blood.

He didn't say a word; nor did Killian give him the chance to do so.

With few words and actions, Killian insisted they leave; mother and child hurried after him, by little prompting, into a deep thicket of forest. They ran as fast as Henry's smaller legs would allow, but skidded to a halt when the man appeared before them again with a spiralled display of maroon colour.

'I'm assuming he's the so-called wizard?' Emma asked with a roll of her eyes.

She couldn't deny how creepy he looked, though. And for all her denial of magic, even Emma had trouble explaining the cloudy teleportation – no amount of trickery could have placed him in front of them at the pace they'd ran.

'Aye.' Killian swallowed, raising his cutlass at the fiend.

Emma glanced at the pirate and copied his actions upon seeing the look in his eyes, unsheathing her own blade with equal anticipation. Henry kept close to her side, and whatever dangers Emma thought Killian had previously over-exaggerated were soon realised to be considerably worse than she'd anticipated.


	5. A Cavern of Memories (Part 2)

**Author's Notes:** RL interfered with my plans to get this up when I'd intended. My apologies. Enjoy! And thanks to all who read, review, favourite, and follow! Also, in addition to the picture of the Jolly Roger crew, I have added another to my profile of the three characters introduced in these two parts.

* * *

**~ A Cavern of Memories - Part 2 ~**

'Help!'

Emma shifted in the direction of the echoed cry, looking further to the right where a cave entrance stood surrounded by a clutter of bushes.

'The sister!' Henry stated, in assumption to the owner of the voice.

'Kid, don't move.' Emma ordered, fearful of his safety.

It was quite an unfortunate situation to be in.

Emma, Henry, and Killian were faced with the wizard who overpowered the entire island of the Misty Shores. Henry's concern was the sister crying for someone to save her, while Killian was busy forming strategies in his mind with the single objection of not dying. Emma, however, was about done with it all. She was tired of the magic crap, of trekking through a damn jungle with a pirate and her runaway son, and she was not in the mood to be faced with the conflict of whether or not to get involved in whatever was going on with an abducted girl.

'Hey!' She shouted at the wizard, holding him responsible for her situation. 'What the hell's your deal?'

Emma's irritated voice made Killian tense beside her. He glanced at the blonde woman with admiration, though adjusted his footing in preparation for the oncoming fight he was sure would happen.

Henry squirmed under the scrutiny of the blood-filled eyes of the red/black-clothed man with silver hair. The boy moved to stand with Killian and Emma on either side of him, which granted the pirate the reach he needed to jump in front of the boy in defence against the creatures.

Emma slashed down one of the bats, and ignored the screech it made before landing at her feet. Henry stared at it, then looked up quickly when his mother charged angrily at the man she deemed responsible for all the annoyances and worries she'd experienced on the island since arriving. He wasn't a wizard in her mind – he was just another bad guy. A man who Emma knew couldn't possibly use magic because there was no such thing.

He was a bully – and Emma did not like bullies.

As she ran at the wizard, dismissing Killian's protests against such reckless rashness, and Henry's yell of concern, Emma saw the man raise his hands to make the area brighter.

Emma knew lights didn't hurt anyone unless they got too close, and the brightness obscured their view. The spiralling lights directed at her, emitted from the wizard's hands, would be too close - yet Emma knew it wouldn't prove her assumed point. It wasn't the lights that caused a chill in the air around her, or to feel as though something was constricting the beat of her heart. It wasn't lights that knocked her off her feet, and sent her flying backwards onto the leafy ground mingled with dirt – her weapon falling away to her left. She'd known that before the impact; she'd felt it before the attack even occurred. For all her denials, and all her struggle to remind herself of common sense, Emma had felt an overturn of realisation in her brain the second the wizard had raised his hands.

Magic was real.

Beyond that, it was powerful and dangerous – it wasn't just a rain of glitter and swish of smoke. It was its existence of being dangerous, potentially harmful, that enabled Emma to grasp the truth in what Killian and others had been trying to tell her. It was always easier to believe the bad things in the word than to even see the good.

Sprawled out on her back, Emma winced from the impact and at her own blindness to the now-apparent truth. She could defend her previous state of mind all she wanted, but Emma chose not to. When something changed her views, she usually accepted it and moved on to counter-attack its damage. She stood, and while countering magic wasn't something Emma had to slightest idea how to do – she also hadn't forgotten that a person had used magic. Not a dragon, or a fairy, but a person. And, as Emma knew all too well, one man could be punched just as easily as the next.

Maybe punching someone who used magic wasn't her brightest idea, but Emma was okay with that. She'd dealt with far worse and survived, although never had she imagined a lonely and hurtful upbringing in the foster system would one day provide her with the skills necessary to attempt to fight back against a wizard who had just used magic to fling her across the island floor.

She had barely picked herself up off the ground before another attack came – this time not for her. Hearing a grunt behind her, Emma watched with horror as Killian was flung backwards and vanished from sight. It wasn't the height of the throw, or the surrounding leaves that hid him – it was the startling realisation of how close they were to the edge of a cliff.

'Killian!' Henry screamed in panic.

Emma ran forward, circling her hands around her son's middle to keep the boy from running to face the same fate. She cared nothing for her weapon, and lifted her son to carry him closer to see if Killian had truly fallen to his death or if he'd been close enough to the side to latch onto it.

Bending on the ground, Emma choked on a gush of air when she saw his silver attachment had hooked itself onto a root sticking out from the edge of the cliff. It was a very long way down – leading far beyond trees to a strip of river water. He grunted with struggle, swinging lightly in the wind as if he weighed nothing, and stared up at her with premature relief.

Emma released Henry carefully, then flattened against the ground on her stomach to solidify herself and prevent from falling to join him. She reached down, similar to how she had done so while he'd been stuck in the mud, and grabbed his free hand. Pulling him a few feet across a liquid, and yanking his entire body back up onto a cliff-side, however, were two very different tasks.

'I won't let you fall!' Emma gasped with effort.

She fearfully realised, in that moment, that she didn't want to let him go – even if Emma couldn't understand why. This man, who she'd hardly known for more than a day, was somehow important. She had to pull Killian up, or else be dragged down to their death with him, because Emma felt she wasn't capable of letting him go.

Emma leaned back with all her strength, tugging and fighting to get him above ground again. Once he was part-way, Henry's smaller hands looped around the man's wrist in equally determined effort to help. Killian was the only one focused enough to take in appearances, and felt all his previous anger at being left behind in the mud ebb away when he saw how furiously they struggled to pull him to safety – even the small boy, whose strength was no match for the weight of a grown man hanging over a cliff.

With one final yank of exertion, Emma and Henry fell backwards onto the dirt, as Killian hoisted his legs onto solid ground. The trio each exhaled with slacked relief.

'Thank you.' Killian felt obligated to say, looking first at Emma and then the boy.

Emma nodded, while Henry aimed a big smile in his direction.

'Why have you ventured this far?' The wizard asked, angrily, from where he stood to watch their interactions.

He could have used more magic, or added to their struggle, yet the wizard remained where he had arrived to simply glare at their overall existence.

Killian checked his brother's cutlass was safe, and clutched the golden handle in desire to pierce its blade through the magical being. Henry jumped up to join his side, remembering the danger they still faced, while Emma hurried to retrieve her own cutlass from where it had fallen. She stood ahead of the pair in clear confrontation with the wizard, her heart pounding with anger and a protective determination to ensure no harm came to her son or the pirate captain.

'A man claims you kidnapped his sister.' Emma stated, realising the wizard might think they were after his treasure.

Killian had said no one usually goes further than the spot they'd intended for Henry to retrieve his memories from somehow, unless they greedily sought the spoken-of rare treasures located higher on the island.

'You cannot save her.' The wizard said, void of any emotion or expression - apart from anger.

'I'm gonna to try.' Emma stated, unsure why she cared so much for a stranger – though the occasional cries of help from the cave made it hard for her to do otherwise.

She kept picturing Henry's face, and knew leaving someone behind wasn't the right thing to do. Emma didn't want to disappoint her boy, and neither did she want to abandon someone who kept calling out for help.

'The cave will evoke every memory you have forced away – everything you have tried to forget.' The wizard said. 'I've known no man to venture within, and then emerge. They're all consumed by their own minds, unable to go on. You will be no different.'

'My pain is part of me.' Emma said, remembering Gulliver's words from earlier. 'I've been through worse crap than a darkened cave.'

'We aren't here for your gold!' Killian added for good measure. 'We merely wish to grab the lass, retrieve some memories, and be gone from this island.'

'And begone you shall be.' The wizard vanished in another puff of red smoke.

A now-recognisable sound of flying bats reached their ears, while each Emma and Killian gripped the handles of their cutlasses tightly. Emma's green gaze drifted to the entrance of the cave, and released a long breath of air. Dread burdened her, but she struggled against in it determination to not back down from what she knew was necessary. She fixed her gaze onto her son, with his wide eyes and small form, then stared at Killian.

He was already watching her; waiting with a hint of wariness.

She opened her mouth to speak, when a screech interrupted – the bats weren't large in numbers, but they were coming with more vehemence than before. Emma turned her back on them, and saw Killian instinctively step closer to the boy – even a little in front, now he knew exactly where the bats would be swooping from. His instinctive action did two things at once to Emma – broke her heart, and warmed it. She felt guilt and gratitude circling each other inside her entire form, but there was no time to change her mind.

'I'm going to save her.' Emma indicated to the cave, seeing the look of delight on her boy's face at her proclamation.

She was doing it for him, even though Emma couldn't deny it didn't feel right to just leave the man's sister behind – not after recalling how broken he was when he'd interrupted them to grieve her abduction.

'Henry, stay with Killian.' Emma said firmly, fixing the pirate with a stern glare, then hurried across the space to enter the cave.

Killian watched her retreat, and felt a chill of shock spread through him - soon replaced with a strange warmth.

She hadn't told him to stay with the boy; Emma instructed the child to remain with him. She'd entrusted her greatest treasure to him – a pirate she'd met that day; a pirate she'd left to his muddy fate in fear of taking a chance on him; and a man who she'd used all her strength to pull up the side of the cliff for no apparent reason, other than not wanting him to fall to his death.

Killian knew Emma Swan would be a challenge, but it was part of what made him so drawn to her.

The betrayal had stung, but it shied in comparison to how it felt to be standing there with his brother's cutlass and an onslaught of approaching bats – he hadn't felt like this in a long time. He relished the thrill, allowed it to fill him, and spurred those feelings into all his serious dedication to doing exactly what she had entrusted him to do: protect her little boy from harm.

'What are they?' Henry worried, looking up at the darkening sky, where the bats went from flying specks to winged creatures nearing them with every flap of their leathery wings.

'Giant bloody bats.' Killian replied. 'Fear not, lad. They are no match for a pirate captain!'

~ NH ~

Emma had the urge to recoil when the cave chilled her skin and senses. The walls were dimly lit with an eerie glow of red – Emma briefly wondered if she was descending into frozen-over version of Hell itself. She walked through the rocky corridor, hearing the fading sound of blade against bat from outside. When cry for help pierced through the echoing tunnel ahead, Emma shuddered and forced herself to keep it together.

Something just wasn't right about this place, and every nerve she had knew it.

'I'm coming!' Emma called back to the sister, knowing hope was an important thing to give anyone regardless of the situation.

'Please, hurry.'

Emma did no such thing. She took her time; carefully wary of each step she took, in alertness for danger. It felt too simple to just wander into the cave, save the girl, and get the heck out of there. Still, she ventured deeper and followed the downward slope, with her cutlass gripped ahead of her. She remained ready to strike, and kept her worrying thoughts at bay to give her survival instincts reign.

The walls became further apart, soon leading to a rounded chamber no larger than an average living room. There was a cage at the far side, made of what appeared to be bars of light itself. Emma stared at the bright blueness, and assumed she was looking at magic. She knew it was real, but still it was a strange thing to remind herself each time additional proof was shown to her.

Inside the cage was a woman, though she was younger than Emma had expected. She looked oddly out of place in the darkened area, dressed in a violet dress, and her hair parted to a long spiral over each shoulder. The woman was huddled in the center of her cage, with her arms wrapped around her knees. Hearing Emma enter, the woman simply looked over to watch her supposed rescuer. Separating her caged form from Emma was a space of rocky floor covered in a low, thin layer of mist.

Emma was not so easily fooled into thinking a bit of fog was the only thing guarding the prisoner – it was surely magic as well.

'I'm gonna get you out of here.' Emma fiercely told the girl, who looked so scared and in sort supply of hope.

It was like looking at a mirror from the past – minus the different clothes, and presence of magic.

'The wizard told me you can't.' The girl sighed. 'This room makes us face the memories we locked away – all the things in our own mind we want to forget.'

'I've lived through it once; I'll do it again.' Emma frowned, looking around for alternative options in case there was an easier way without having to go near the ominous fog.

She struggled to accept that mere mist was going to be such a challenge to cross, but the image of the wizard sending powerful magic towards her – and sending her flying through the air, was no so easily overlooked. Knowing Killian was outside protecting her son from attacking creatures, Emma wasted no further time - she begun to cross the room.

At first, it seemed like nothing had happened and she was right all along about her initial beliefs regarding magic.

Then she heard the cries of an infant. It had always haunted her nightmares, until a year ago when it was replaced with stranger ones. And yet, no matter how many years she'd heard the sound in her dreams, Emma always felt a stab of emotion course through her at the wails. Her baby boy – the child she'd convinced herself she couldn't raise. The baby she'd given away. However, it was now accompanied with a new thought, about how he was also the boy who had returned to her so they could have a second chance.

The cries didn't haunt her as much anymore, so Emma took another step forward.

About halfway, another cry reached her, but it wasn't that of her newborn son. It was a woman's, and Emma froze at the sound of her voice. It seemed familiar, though so far away. Emma felt another chill, realising perhaps the resurfaced memories weren't just ones she had once been aware of – perhaps they were from further back than even she knew.

"_No. You don't know what you're saying."_ A man's voice said, filled with emotion and pain.

"_No, I do. We have to believe that she'll come back for us."_ The woman insisted. "_We have to give her her best chance."_

Emma stared nervously into the fog now swirling all around her – the cave was gone, as was the woman trapped in the cage across the rocky chamber. All she saw was a lavish bedroom, where a couple cried in united agony as they held a newborn baby in their arms. The woman was on the bed, and the man beside it.

Emma didn't question the scene, or wonder who they were – because she saw the blanket the baby was wrapped in, and she knew.

Tears trailed down her cheeks, as Emma witnessed her parents for the first time in memory. Her mother had dark hair and green eyes, while her father was blonde with blue eyes. Emma saw traces of herself in them, yet what shocked her most was the sudden truth emerged from the scene: they had loved her from the moment they laid eyes upon her. It hurt them, just as it had hurt Emma with Henry, to give their baby away right after the child's birth.

She was loved once.

When her father carried her infant self from the room, gripping a sword and holding her protectively close, Emma saw beyond the shocking realisation of how they'd truly regarded her. After watching her mother, the beautiful woman who had given birth to her, crying with so much raw pain for giving her baby away, Emma almost lost the ability to stand upright.

The magic of the cave promised darkness and memories few could recover from, but Emma hadn't expected her entire world to flip. It gave her strength, rather than fear, though the ache inside her wasn't easily quelled. She witnessed her father fighting knights, never letting even a brush of material to touch her tiny form, and then carry her into a splendid nursery. Emma watched him place her inside what appeared to be some sort of tree-shaped wardrobe, and kiss her forehead with so much sadness Emma just wanted to reach over to hug him.

"_Find us."_

Emma fell forward, her knees hitting the hard surface of the cave floor, and bowed her head with heartache. The mist was gone, and her entire body hurt. It wasn't a physical blow that jerked her to her knees, or even a powerful burst of magical wind – it was the sheer force of her own emotions.

'I'm so sorry.' The girl across the room whispered, though the echoed space allowed Emma to hear her clearly even though her own silent sobbing. 'My brother and I came here to remember our grandfather, who gave his life for us when we were little. We heard about the treasures, and greed overtook us. I'm sorry – this is my fault. I deserve this fate.'

'No.' Emma choked out, roughly wiping her tears aside to gather herself. 'I'm getting you out of here!' She growled, standing to raise her previously-fallen cutlass.

Emma marched to the cage, and swiped through the magical bars with her blade.

She wasn't sure what she'd expected to happen, but the cutlass went through the magical light without a change. The bars remained, and even Emma wasn't quite confident enough to risk touching them with her bare hands. If it was that simple to escape, than surely the woman would have already left without further assistance.

Emma frowned, wanting to get out of the chilling place, but wasn't sure how. She looked around, and came to a realisation as she took in the sight of the empty space around them – this wasn't her prison.

'You have to get out.' Emma told the woman. 'This is your cage, so get out of it.'

'I-I can't.' The golden-haired woman shuddered.

'Yes, you can.' Emma insisted. 'Your brother found us – he misses you. He's scared of losing you. So, you're going to get out of this and go back to him.'

'Jack, he's okay?' Her eyes widened.

'He will be once I get you back to him.' Emma stated. 'I have to get you out of here. You have to get yourself out.'

'Why?' She stared at Emma. 'Why is it so important to you that I do?'

'My son.' Emma said, swallowing as she spoke it aloud with such certainty. 'He's out there, in danger, until I can get him the hell off this island. I can't do that until you escape this cage. I don't know how this works – this magic, or whatever, but it's your prison.'

Emma had taken a rather unfounded guess, but it turned out to be right.

The woman closed her eyes, and thought on all the things she'd left behind - against what she had left and was about to lose. The cage faded away into nothing, and Emma instantly reached over to grab the woman's hand to pull her onto her feet. While the woman dusted off her violent dress, Emma spared no further thought - other than to ensure the former prisoner remained close when she swerved around to leave. A coldness of magical air washed over them as the pair hurried forward, bringing forth an onslaught of random memories from darker times in their lives, but Emma wasn't letting that stop them.

She clutched the woman's hand to keep her moving. as they hurried back along the cave tunnel - Emma strived to ensure she would be reunited with her son and...Pirate.

~ NH ~

While Emma was inside the cave, battling emotions and memories, Killian was occupied with bats - who refused to die easily. He fought, despite a few scratches he received in return, to keep Henry unharmed. Emma entrusted the boy to him, and Killian put every effort he could manage into fulfilling it.

'Let's go!' Emma's voice burst from the cave, seconds before she did, directed at the awaiting pair.

Killian was too distracted to take much notice of the woman following behind Emma, and merely considered himself lucky to have heard her voice at all. Emma blindly ducked the bats, and led the way towards the forest path they'd come from. The woman followed, and Killian turned to do the same.

Henry, however, tripped the moment he backed away from the sky of bats. Falling down backwards, the boy raised his arms to defend himself, as a large bat flew straight at him. Killian yelled, as he swung the cutlass hard against the creature, and latched his hook into the fold of the boy's collar. Scooping the child out of harm's way, Killian shifted his attention for a few seconds – and it cost him.

'Go!' Killian gave Henry a shove, when the cutlass slipped onto the ground from the force of a bat hitting his hand. 'Run away, lad!'

Henry gasped fearfully, then nodded in confidence in the pirate's fighting ability, and scurried away after Emma. Killian moved to retrieve his cutlass, the precious item belonging to his brother, but halted when he realised he could hear Henry running but not Emma. The boy was not quite so protected with the slight distance between his mother and the bats.

Killian halted – those three seconds passed like an hour to him, as he weighed his priorities.

Hearing the boy yell with surprise, Killian didn't bother crossing through the mass of flapping bats to reclaim the golden-handled cutlass. Instead, he spun around and sped through the leafy obstacles of the forest. Seeing Henry sitting on the ground with a red scratch on his forearm, while a bat swooped for another attack, Killian acted purely on impulse. He grabbed the boy, instinctively careful not to nick Henry with the hook, and lifted the child into his arms.

Killian ran after Emma, soon meeting up with her and the rescued prisoner – leaving the bats far behind them. She looked from his face, to her son held protectively in his arms much as a parent would, and didn't say a word. Emma picked up the pace again, expertly recalling the way back to safety while the others did their best to keep up.

* * *

It was dark by the time they were reunited with Gulliver.

He'd lit a small fire, and hardly cared to observe the hugging reunion between the brother and sister. Gulliver looked at the others with questioning, raising an eyebrow in a habitual way he'd picked up from his captain over the somewhat sort time they'd sailed together.

'Don't ask.' Killian grumbled, setting the boy down.

'Thanks.' Henry gasped.

'Don't mention it, lad.' Killian said, glancing at Emma.

'Thank you.' She said, hope and relief shining in her eyes.

'It was nothing.' Killian averted his gaze, brushing off her compliments, and tried to better concern himself with their limited safety despite having returned to the clearing.

'Here.' The brother, Jack, stepped over to Emma with his hand outstretched. 'I heard your boy needs to remember something. This will help keep you safe while he does.'

'What is it?' Emma narrowed her eyes at the round object no larger than an average pebble.

'It's the least we can do.' Jack explained. 'It was the only treasure I had time to grab. It should protect you, like a shield, for a short time – long enough for you to get what you came here for.'

'We owe you everything.' The woman added. 'Thank you so much.'

'Just go.' Killian waved his hand dismissively, wishing they'd never originally interrupted what was meant to be a quick task.

The pair hurried away in the direction of the beach, while Emma and Gulliver moved aside to watch as Henry followed Killian's instructions once again. The captain reminded the boy how to retrieve his memories prior to finding Emma, while the woman herself tried to figure out how to use the shield-thing Jack had given her.

The sound of screeches made her anxious – she just wanted to leave the damn island and never come back. Gulliver suggested she try throwing the pebble-sized object, which turned out to be exactly what she had to do. Emma watched, as a bubble of pearly-blue magic created a dome around their area, and was in wonder for a moment at the sight of it.

Henry stood still inside the dirt circle, and closed his eyes. He let his thoughts wander, allowed his curiosity and determination to guide him back to the time before he'd shown up on his real mother's doorstep hardly a day ago. The statue across from him glowed a bright purple, which spread and covered his form as well.

Emma flinched, and fought the urge to get him away from it; she didn't trust magic, though Emma knew it was necessary for Henry to remember.

Killian and Gulliver exchanged glances, each remembering the incident was supposed to take much quicker than it was, yet remained impatiently quiet. The three adults jumped when a bat slammed into the protective dome above them – the colliding action burned one of its wings. While they cringed at the sizzling sound and smell; Henry was oblivious to it all.

'No!' The child cried out, jerking backwards so harshly he fell onto his rear in the dirt.

'Henry?' Emma worried.

The purple light faded, and the boy hurried to his feet.

Henry dashed forward until he almost knocked Emma over in a desperate embrace. His arms looped around her waist, and his young face buried against her stomach, while Emma panicked about what to do. She held him, confused and concerned, but was more aware of the shattering sound of the shield failing from yet another bat slamming into it.

'Do you remember, lad?' Killian asked urgently, his blue gaze darting from Henry and the fading shield.

'Yes!' Henry sobbed.

'Back to the ship!' Killian yelled, waving his many-ringed hand to direct the group back towards the beach.

Emma glanced at the sky; though it was lit by a bright moon, as a clear indication of night, yet she was able to see at least a hundred bats making the sky even darker.

She grabbed Henry's hand, and kept him close as they ran after the two pirates.

'Capt'n?' Vane asked, when he saw them speeding onto the deck.

'Weigh anchor!' Killian ordered, causing a flurry of activity around him. 'Sail as far from this bloody island as you can!'

Gulliver took to the helm, while the rest of the crew busied themselves with their duties of managing ropes and sails. Killian checked on Emma and Henry, not realising he was more concerned for them than how fast they fled the cursed land.

Emma crouched on the deck, her arms circling around her son, as she held the distraught boy close to her. It was the first time she'd ever truly held him in such a way, and it struck deep emotions inside her. Emma wondered if she should admire, or be upset, by how her own mother had given her away after holding her, whereas Emma had barely been able to give Henry up without allowing herself to even look at him.

She saw Killian approach, but neither spoke.

The bats in the sky weren't able to fly over the ocean, it seemed, as the ship sailed away and the creatures didn't follow beyond the beach. Emma didn't notice or care – all she felt was her son holding her close, and she only saw the blue eyes of the captain illuminated under the light of nearby lanterns.

'Thank you.' Emma said again, without being clear of what she thanked him for.

Killian watched her, as if reading her heart, and knew her gratitude was for everything. It was, however, especially for not betraying her as she had him – for allowing her a second chance to trust him, and thus for him not to prove her wrong. It was for risking his own life to keep her son safe. She was annoyed Henry had somehow gotten hurt anyway, but Emma was still too emotional from the moment in the cave to grasp more than her relief to have made it out.

'I did nothing.' Killian said, turning his back on the pair to give them space.

Emma had seen it, though; the brief moment of shyness flitting through his gaze, and the way he expressed discomfort under her praise. He was a man not used to compliments – he didn't know what to do with them, nor felt as deserving of her words. This, above all else, was what gave Emma hope that maybe he could be trusted just enough to not be pushed into magically-restraining mud every time he got too close.

Holding her son against her, with every intention to never let him go again, Emma mused over her own memories. The cave wasn't what she'd expected, and it scared her. The truth about magic was one thing to comprehend, but in all her life she'd thought her parents had thrown her away – she'd wondered, every night, if they'd ever loved her at all. Now she knew.

Emma inhaled a shaky breath, and looked down at her son. His tear-pooled eyes stared up at her, and she knew nothing was more important to her than him. Not magic, not her parents, not any creepy wizard – just her little boy who was frightened and confused. Whatever he'd remembered, and wherever it led them next, Emma knew as long as she fought for him then there was hope.

She turned to look over the edge of the ship, with Henry pressed to her side in fear of releasing her, and spotted the fading bump in the horizon that was the island. She might not know where her home was, but Henry was her family. He was Emma's greatest treasure, and far more valuable than anything made of gold.

~ NH ~

While Emma relished the feeling of leaving the Misty Shores, the wizard stood watching the Jolly Roger sailing away into the horizon. He stood at the highest point of the island, lacking in any emotion as he waited for his company to join him.

'Aroth!'

He turned his head slightly in the direction of his name. The woman, who had been rescued earlier, hurried to join him. She smoothed the material of her violet dress, and glanced to him with curiosity.

'They're getting away?' She asked, looking to the last glimpse of the Jolly Roger.

'Jill.' The wizard, Aroth, sighed with forced patience. 'Much like my son, and his island of eternal youth, I don't let anyone leave without my permission. There is a reason no one survives the cave.'

'I did.' Jill frowned.

'You were placed in that cage for my purpose.' Aroth corrected, anger showing on his face as he glared at her with his blood-filled eyes. 'Had you not been protected, you too would have rotted there like all the rest.'

'Does she know?' Jill wondered.

'No.' Aroth smirked. 'But she will.'

Deciding it wasn't in her best interest to question the wizard further, Jill decided to leave him to his thoughts and retreated back down the mountain to assist her brother in collecting water from the island well.

'You're not free of me, Emma Swan.' Aroth muttered to the distance, his eyebrows furrowing with concentration. 'One day, a price will be paid.' He said, his voice fading away like a whisper against a stronger breeze.


End file.
